


Five

by Massing1



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Romance, autopsy scene, humour drama, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 98,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25172641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Massing1/pseuds/Massing1
Summary: An unnamed female character asks Gibbs for help. The team feels it's time for Operation New Mom to begin. We follow the new couple over the years. Not all goes as smoothly as we might wish.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 34





	1. Contact

**Author's Note:**

> This piece started life as a short story and has steadily grown to book length in three parts. Part 1 reads well as a stand alone story but I urge you to carry on and find out what else happens.
> 
> It was the first thing I had ever written and it has taken me 4 years of constant rethinking, reorganizing and rewriting to get to this stage. Your feedback would be gratefully received. 
> 
> The last chapter (Chapter 22) is an alternate ending. At one point I wasn't sure which way the story should go, so I tried both options. I decided on one but I thought you might like to see what might have happened. 
> 
> ****There are explicit heterosexual sex scenes in this version.**** Each scene is flagged before it begins.
> 
> A PG version is available on FanFiction.net
> 
> Thank you. I hope enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

****

**FIVE  
**

**Part I - Light**

A

**Chapter One - Contact.**

She knew she was on the ground. It was hard and cold. There was a flash of brilliant light. It made her head hurt. As it dimmed she became aware of a person in front of her. They were talking. She could see their mouth moving. Somewhere there was sound.  


"It's okay. You're safe now." A woman's voice. "My name is Shannon." She sounded nice. Calm and soothing. She had covered her with a blanket and was stroking her hair. "Stay still now. The medics are on their way. My husband has gone after the man that attacked you. You're safe now. It will all be okay."  


Then the comforting darkness enveloped her once again..

\---

He'd run after her assailant, detaining him until the cops arrived. He hadn't realised at the time, that it was the victim's husband.  


She was badly hurt. She lost her baby. She almost lost her life. By the time she was well again her (by now) ex-husband was in prison with no chance of parole for at least 20 years.  


The man and his wife had been re-deployed. She returned to an empty house to pack up and start a new life alone. (The Navy didn't really care where. With the trial over and her divorce through, she was no longer part of their remit)  


She had always meant to write to the couple that had helped her, but you know how things get. Life has a habit of getting in the way. With the best of intentions, things still don't get done. In time, it all became a fairly distant memory.memory.

\---

Twenty years. A lifetime and yet all too short a time. The parole board had been in contact.  


_"You have the right to appeal to the board with any reason why parole should not be granted."  
_

____

It was so long ago and yet she could not be free of that bastard. She knew she needed help - A credible witness to speak on her behalf.  


____

It took hours of internet searching. All this time she had thought he was Navy. She was wrong. She remembered his wife was called Sharon - but that was also wrong.  


____

She had no idea what he was doing now. She guessed he must be retired - lf, of course, he was still alive. She found a newspaper article about his family's tragic accident and cried for his loss. She found no less than FOUR marriage records. They couldn't ALL be him could they? But then, there couldn't be many men with such a distinctive name. Finally, she tracked him down to an office in DC and an email address.  


____

"Dear Special Agent Gibbs," she wrote.

____

⌘⌘⌘  


____

She recognised him immediately as he walked through the coffee shop door. The Marine haircut did pretty much give it away! He carried himself with confidence, with authority. He ordered coffee, black, no sugar, to go. He took the cup from the barista, thanking her. He looked around the store and walked straight toward her. She stood. They shook hands.  


____

"Thank you for coming. I wasn't sure you'd recognise me."  


____

"Well, you seemed about the right age, you were sitting alone - but clearly waiting for somebody ... and I looked up your driving license before I left the office."  


____

She laughed. He smiled self consciously. They sat down and shared a few minutes of polite chit-chat - where had the time gone? What do you do now? Where do you live these days? She was surprised he was still in the house. Then his mood darkened slightly folded his arms and leaned across the table towards her. He looked at her with serious eyes.  


____

"What can I do to help?"

\---

It was the first of many meetings over a frustrating number of weeks. The life thing was doing its level best to get in the way once again.  


____

She had to fly back to Boston or Philadelphia (whichever office needed her) sometimes. He had to cancel for 'work' reasons at others. They met for coffee. They met for lunch. They met for dinner. She met his work colleagues. They were very curious about her and how she knew The Boss. Gibbs glared at them and they changed the subject quickly. Nice people though, and they clearly cared deeply for their friend. She liked that. It was comforting to know he wasn't alone. Sometimes, when he was tired, the charm and confidence would slip a little and he'd look ... sad, lost even.  


____

She was even introduced to the woman in his life. One dreary evening when their plans were rained out, he'd taken her to his home. They had driven past her old house. It had changed a lot. There was a new extension on the side and it was painted a different colour. Heart wrenchingly, there were children's toys in the yard - a swing, some bikes. She must have made some kind of noise. Gibbs slammed the car brakes. Looking across at her ashen face, he followed her gaze and realised where he was. He touched her shoulder.  


____

"Are you okay? I should have taken another route. I wasn't thinking." He was concerned. She was terribly pale.  


____

"It's okay, really." She patted his hand trying unconvincingly to reassure him. "You weren't to know what my reaction would be. Hell, I didn't know what my reaction would be. I hadn't thought about it at all ... This is the first time I've seen it since ... "  


____

"Let's go". He started the car and they drove the short distance to his house in silence. He helped her out of the car and placed an arm protectively around her shoulders. "Come on, let me introduce you to the lady in my life ... "

____

She stepped inside the house. She doubted it had changed much in twenty years. She knew he lived alone and expected a dog to come bounding out to meet them but no.  


____

He led the way, holding her hand. "Careful there, in those heels," he said. He guided her down the stairs, bracing himself with each step in case she missed her footing. They reached the basement floor and he switched on the overhead lights. "So?" He asked proudly. "What'd'ya think?"

____

She stared in disbelief at the structure in front of her. "It's a boat." She said, stating the obvious.  


____

"Yep. It sure is." He replied patting the craft paternally.  


____

"It's a very big boat." She continued.  


____

"No, it's not that big. Anymore and it wouldn't have fit in the basement."  


____

"It's a boat and it's in the basement."  


____

"Well I didn't want it in the yard to get wet in the rain."  


____

"It's a boat, they're supposed to get wet."  


____

"Only when they're finished and this one isn't finished. That's why I keep her in the basement."  


____

Her head hurt. She considered herself a fairly well educated person, but for the life of her, she couldn't see ... "How d'you ... ?"  


____

He held out his hand. In it was a jam jar with a dark alcoholic liquid in it. She sniffed at it suspiciously. "Isn't it a little early?"  


____

"Just the one - for the shock. Sip it now,” he warned, “It's strong stuff.”  


____

She took a deep breath and downed the whole lot in one. "Is it?" She asked. He looked impressed. He couldn't help but smile.

____

They spent the rest of the evening putting the world right over pizza, coffee and sawdust. He spoke proudly and with great enthusiasm about the vessel and the array of tools used to build her. About this being the fifth such craft (all built by hand) and the skills needed - passed down by his Dad.  


____

She understood little of the technical side but to see him so animated about his hobby was a joy in itself. It was a pleasant evening in the end despite its poor start. He escorted her back to her hotel - ever the gentleman. It occurred to her that these days they rarely talked about the hearing. Their time together had blossomed into friendship. She forgot about the impending prison trip ... at least for a short while.

____

⌘⌘⌘  


____

When the parole hearing was eventually called, it did not go well. She watched Samuel (her ex-husband) from behind a two way mirror. He must surely have known she was there. Some comments were, she felt aimed directly at her. Just to be that close to him made her blood chill. Gibbs put an arm around her shoulders protectively.  


____

"It's okay. He can't see you. You're safe in here."  


____

She hadn't realised she was trembling. She sat and listened as Samuel told the board that he was no longer the angry, jealous young man he once was. That he had received counselling and anger management training. That he no longer hated women. That he understood his issues stemmed from his childhood and his parents' acrimonious divorce. He told the board he wanted to apologise to his wife for what he had done and make amends in some way. He had paid his debt to society. He looked straight at her through the glass. He smiled coldly. Now he wanted to pay his debt to her. She thought she would puke.  


____

"My God, he's going to get out," she whispered. "I'll spend the rest of my life running." 

____

Her knees gave way. Gibbs caught her and sat her down. He whispered into her ear, "You're okay," he tried to reassure her. "Take a deep breath now. Slowly, that's it." He held her close and stroked her hair to sooth her. "Try to stay calm." He nodded towards Samuel. "He can't hurt you in here. He's just playing games - trying to get into your head."  


____

Well it's working." She replied trying to force the encroaching panic aside.  


____

Gibbs turned her by the shoulders and held her gaze with his own. "Just tell them how you feel. Tell them of your fears and how long it's taken you to recover. Why you don't believe what he's saying. What you'll have to do with if he gets out." He pulled her close to him and pointed to the floor. "And I'll be right here when you get back. Right here. I'm not going anywhere."

____

⌘⌘⌘  


____

She wanted to present a calm, professional image. Instead - there was trembling, tears, sniffling into tissues and the need for a glass of water. How pathetic! That's why she needed a second. Gibbs' statement was characteristically short and to the point. Now he just wanted to get her out of there. She was a complete mess.  


They left the ante-room just in time for Samuel to be escorted back to his cell. He looked at her. He looked at Gibbs. His face went purple. He ground his teeth in rage. He balled his fists. He spat.  


____

"It's him," he screamed at her. "He's the one that caught hold of me.” He aimed all his rage towards his ex-wife. The venom towards her clearly visible. “You were fucking him then too, weren't you? That was his bastard kid inside you wasn't it?" Pointing at her stomach. "You slut. And then you have the gall to bring him here? For what? So you can gloat? You bitch."  


____

Samuel fought against the cuffs and pushed against the two guards with him. They struggled to restrain him. His anger so intense they could barely make a difference. A third guard joined them holding him back. He screamed at her as Gibbs forced her in the opposite direction towards the exit.  


____

"You bitch.” Samuel screamed. “This isn't over. You'll see. This isn't over you fucking whore."

____

⌘⌘⌘  


____

They drove back to DC in silence. She curled up in the passenger seat, her back to him, crying quietly. He tried to catch concerned glimpses of her as he drove. Eventually, she slept. Gibbs reached for his phone. "Hey Duck. Could you meet me at my house in about an hour? No, not good. I'd just like you to check on her. Thanks."  


____

He drove her back to his home. She sat perched on the edge of the couch, arms wrapped around herself, rocking slightly. Make-up streaked from tears. "I made such a fool of myself. I'll have no-one else to blame when he gets out. What was I thinking? I'll never be free of him. How could I have been so stupid?"  


____

Gibbs held her by the shoulders. "Look at me." Her head remained staring at the ground. He lifted her chin gently, "Look at me." He held her gaze with strong blue eyes that stared directly into her soul. "He is NOT getting out. You will ALWAYS be safe. I will make sure of that." He pulled her towards him and wrapped her in his arms. It shocked him to realise just how much he meant it.

\---

"Here, I got you these to change into - out of you're (he waved his hand vaguely up and down at her body.) you're business clothes." She stared at the jog pants and sweatshirt in his hands. She looked dubiously at him over the top of her glasses. "What?" He shrugged. He smelled the clothes. "They're clean! A bit big maybe but I thought you'd be more comfortable." He nodded toward the bathroom. "Go and get changed. I'll make the fire and get some coffee on."  


____

When she returned, the fire was catching nicely. There was a mug of steaming coffee on the table. She sat back down on the couch and Gibbs wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and handed her her coffee "Feel better?" She nodded and took a deep breath and then the tears began again. She didn't deserve someone being nice to her. He held her close until there was a knock on the door.

____

⌘⌘⌘  


____

Dr. Mallard spoke quietly to Gibbs as he cleaned his glasses. "I've given her a mild sedative. It should make sleep a bit easier. Rest is the order of the day. She needs a calm, quiet environment for a day or two just to clear her head - to re-group as it were. And Chamomile tea not 'Gibbs strength' coffee," said the physician, he handed Gibbs the now cold cup with disdain. "The poor girl has had enough - and who can blame her? She needs a friend now Jethro."  


____

"I know, Duck. I know."  


____

"Call me if you are at all concerned about anything. I'll be on my way now. Goodnight Jethro."  


____

"Goodnight Duck, and thank you."

\---

He drew the blinds, switched on the TV, flicked through a few channels to some old cowboy movie or other. He put an extra log on the fire and then returned to the couch. She was curled in a ball under the blanket hoping the world would go away. "Hey, you gonna let me sit down?" Gibbs asked. She said nothing but shuffled about three inches to the left. He protested "Come on! That's not fair. Here, sit up a minute."  


____

He managed to sit down in the corner of the couch and position the stool for his knee. Then he grabbed the pillow from the back of it and placed it on his lap. He patted it. "Come and lie down. Stretch out. That's it. Lie here and watch the movie with me." 

____

He threw the blanket across her body. He put his leg up on the stool to give his knee a rest. They watched the movie. The only sounds came from the TV and the wood crackling in the fire place. Neither spoke. He stroked her head gently, running his fingers through her hair the way he used to with Shannon's. Eventually, her breathing slowed and got deeper. She slept. He watched the TV shushing her through bad dreams occasionally.

\---

He woke up cold. Really cold. And his body ached from head to toe. It took a second or two to remember what was going on. The fire had burned out. The TV channel had closed down to static. She still lay the length of the couch. At some point, she must have rolled over as she lay facing him. She had one arm wrapped around his waist. Any other time he may have found it endearing, right now though, he needed to pee. _"Well that's the coffee for you, you fool."_ He thought ruefully. If he moved, he would wake her. He didn't want to wake her - she was finally peaceful. Perhaps if he just thought of something else ... my God, it was cold! It was no good, she was just going to have to wake up.  


____

He shook her gently. There was no response. He shook a little harder and spoke her name. She mumbled something and wrapped her arm even tighter around his waist. _"No don't do that. Not now!"_ He thought. He slid his way out from underneath her. _"How much of that stuff did Ducky give you?!"_

____

When he got back to the living room she was still sound asleep and refusing to budge "Mild sedative, my ass, Duck," he mumbled under his breath. So now he was stuck. He had nowhere else to sleep! There was nothing else to do but get a sleeping bag from the closet and sleep on the floor. Oh, his back was going to love him in the morning! He checked his watch ... in a whole two hours! He checked on her one last time. She was peaceful enough. He brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. She made a muffled sound and seemed agitated for a moment. "Shh. You're safe now." He reassured her. Then he set the alarm on his watch, lay down on the floor and closed his eyes.

\---

"Come on," Gibbs shook her again. "Come on, I'm gonna be late for work. Up an' at 'em. I gotta get you back to your hotel first."  


____

"Why? Will I turn into a pumpkin?" She huffed sulkily at him. He laughed.  


____

"Yeah, sure Cinders.” He was getting annoyed now. “Come on will ya?"  


____

She sat up on the couch. Damn, It was cold! She wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself and flopped back onto her side. "Oh no you don't," Gibbs said pushing her back up. "Come on. Bathroom, coffee, then we gotta go."  


____

She came down the stairs still half asleep. "I couldn't find a toothbrush so I used yours."  


____

He tried to be annoyed but when he looked up at her it just didn't happen. He hid his smile by tying his shoe laces. She was still wearing the clothes he'd lent her. The arms and legs of which were rolled up several turns. Her hair was combed -ish. She had added her court shoes to the ensemble and she still carried the blanket (all rolled up in a ball), like a four year old. She caught him laughing.  


____

"Hey, I had a bad day okay?"  


____

"I know. I'm just smiling at the 4 year old you've turned into." He handed her a travel cup. "Here's your coffee, now go sit in the car while I lock up."

____

In the car a thought managed to surface through Dr. Mallard's magic potion. "Did you sleep on the floor last night?"  


____

"For a couple of hours."  


____

"Why didn't you just go to bed?"  


____

"Err ... well .... I usually sleep on the couch."  


____

"Why?"  


____

"Because I haven't got a bed at my place right now?"  


____

"Why?"  


____

"I'll tell you another time," he said. "Besides, I wanted to be close to you in case you needed something."  


____

"Aaah - that's so nice! I think that's so nice. You're really, really nice.," said the four year old and then fell asleep again. Gibbs sighed and chuckled to himself. “Let’s get you home Cinders before the clock strikes twelve. He put the key in the ignition and put the car into Drive.  


____

At the hotel, he escorted/carried her back to her room. He walked into the bedroom and turned down the covers. He lifted her into bed and tucked her in. He left her security blanket for her. "Ducky's orders were to relax and rest today, okay? So have a nice lazy day in bed with the TV and Room Service. Maybe a soak in the tub later."  


____

"With bubbles?" She asked with eyes wide. He gave a short laugh and smiled at her.  


____

"Yes, with bubbles if you like." He kissed the top of her head. "I'll stop by after work and take you to one of my favourite places in DC."  


____

"Oh great," she thought. "We're going to Home Depot."

____

⌘⌘⌘  


____

"What is this?” Gibbs grumbled across his desk. “Find Gibbs-a-Date Day?" He snapped at McGee. He was the third person to mention this since he got in this morning. The younger man blushed all the way to his ears.

____

"No, it's not that Boss. It's just ... It's ...it's just ... " He took a deep breath and sighed it out. He had literally drawn the short straw. _Abby or Bishop would have been so much better at this._ "It's just that the lady has been through a tough few weeks. You seem to like her, we REALLY like her, the Inter-agency Dinner is at the end of the week and we thought it might be nice if you took her .... to the dance I mean. Not ... you know ... Not ... you may have already." (That earned him a glare that would have melted steel.) McGee sighed again, closed his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts. "We just thought ... It would be a nice treat. You know how women like to get dressed up and all. And she can get to know us a bit more. ... and stuff." He closed his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. "Bishop would have been far better at this."

____

They had all met at the bar after work the previous evening to compare notes. She and Gibbs really did seem to get on. He was clearly very concerned about her. Abby thought they looked sweet together. Tony was convinced the bounce was back in Gibbs' step and that could only mean one thing! Bishop disagreed - he was being a perfect gentleman - opening doors for her; standing when she entered the room; all that old fashioned chivalrous stuff younger men never learned ...  


____

"And has anyone else noticed how he doesn't take his eyes off her? It's so sweet." She added.  


____

"I told you," Abby squeaked.  


____

"D'you think we'll be getting a new Mom?" DiNozzo asked.  


____

"Well we might if we give him a little nudge," McGee suggested. "He's a lot easier to live with when there's a new Mom on the scene ... at least to begin with ... Well, that is until he screws it up in some way."  


____

"What about getting him to invite her to the dinner/dance on Friday?" Suggested Bishop.  


____

"I don't know," said DiNozzo, "Can he dance?"  


____

"I've seen him dance," Ducky chipped in. "Usually at weddings - mostly his own. As long as it's nothing too fast, he can get around the floor proficiently enough. Mother sent me for ballroom dancing lessons when I was 11. I had to go with my cousin Deidre. She was a good 18 inches taller than me at the time. I had to lead by looking under her armpit. Used to come home with a terrible crick in my neck. ..."  


____

"So whose going to talk to him about it?" Said DiNozzo. They all looked straight at him. "Oh no, no, no. I'm not giving the Boss Man dating tips. Not a chance. Like he'd listen to me anyway. Shouldn't it be a girl? You're far better at this stuff. Abby, and he won't hit you. Or maybe Ducky? Duck Man, you've known him for like, forever ..."  


____

"What? A man of my age and delicate disposition?" Argued Ducky. "My poor heart wouldn't stand the strain, I fear."  


____

"That is so not true, Dr. Mallard." Palmer pointed out. "You're fitter now than twenty years ago. You said so yourself."  


____

"That may be so," the good doctor shot back. "But I'm still not doing it."

____

“Why don't we draw straws?" Someone had suggested. _"I'm going to get whoever said that and wipe every hard drive they've ever owned,"_ thought McGee. He was jolted out of his misery as Gibbs snapped irritably,  


____

"All right, all right. I'll ask her. I was thinking about it anyway. Now, can we please get some work done around here?!"  


____

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Abby dancing in the elevator.

____


	2. Beginnings

****

**Chapter Two - Beginnings**

“I have to agree Jethro, this place is pretty cool and the pie is really excellent."  


Gibbs smiled, pleased that she too, liked the diner. "It reminds me a little of home." He explained. "It's not like we're in the city at all. My Mom used to work in one very similar. I'd stop by on my way home from school to see her and we'd eat a piece of pie together.” He picked up his fork and waved it over the plate they shared. “Rather like this."  


They sat across from one another. Not perhaps, the most romantic of places - under the Expressway, but it suited him just fine. It had a hometown feel to it (as long as you didn't look outside). Everyone in there seemed to know him and he them. Some introduced themselves. One old guy winked at Gibbs and slapped him on the shoulder. He'd ordered Apple pie with chocolate sauce and two forks. He put a country song on the juke box and they sat opposite each other as he talked about his childhood. She was captivated. He stared off into the distance when he spoke about his Mom, smiling wistfully. His Dad was gone now too. The hurt from old wounds gradually fading. 

"I wish I could have met them." She said reaching for his hand. He didn't resist.  


"I do too." He replied. "You'd have liked them, I think. And they would certainly have liked you. Anyway ..."

He shook himself out of his reverie and then sighed in a resigned manner. Their hands changed position. His on top of hers - almost as if he was afraid she would run away. "My team have been on at me all day to ask you something."  


"Oh? Should I be worried?"  


"Well that depends. Can you dance?"  


"What kind of dance?."  


"Waltzing and stuff." He looked extremely uncomfortable. She laughed inwardly to herself. It was so endearing. Here suddenly, sat an awkward teenager in front of her. She would never have thought it - not after four wives - surely, he should have got the hang of this by now?

"Are you asking me on a date?" She asked with amusement in her eyes  


_"Whose idea was this again?"_ He thought to himself. Outwardly he added gallantly, "I would be delighted if you would accompany me to the Inter-agency Dinner on Friday evening."  


"Delighted huh?" He looked almost bashful. She thought her heart would burst. "Well how could I refuse such a charming invitation." He seemed almost surprised.  


"Oh? Erm ... Good ... Right ...Well, I'd better get my dinner suit cleaned then. I didn't know if you would like that sort of thing. You can say no, you know. I won't mind."  


"Are you kidding? Every woman likes a reason to dress up."  


"So I’ve been told. Bishop has offered to show you the 'right stores' whatever that means. I guess that's a girl thing?"  


"Yeah," she smiled at him, "It's a girl thing."  


"Right. Have I squirmed enough now?"  


"Most definitely, I give you ten out of ten," she laughed and he joined her.  


"Oh thank you. I shouldn't be so nervous asking a girl on a date."  


"A girl? I haven't been called a 'girl' for too many years." Throughout the conversation his hand had rested comfortably on hers. He lifted it to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. He stood,  


"Come on, it's getting late. I'll take you back to your hotel."

\---

The drive into the centre of DC was unusually quiet. She stared out of the passenger window apparently a million miles away. He worried about her silence. Had he pushed too hard? Had he got the signals so wrong? Sure, he was out of practice at all this, but he really didn't think so. Was it too soon after the hearing for a romance? He hoped not. The kids in the Bullpen were not the only ones who REALLY liked her. He didn't want to mess this up ... again.

He parked up at the hotel and walked her to her door as usual. The elevator ride had been in silence. He held her hand. They stood in her doorway, awkwardly.  


"I'll get Bishop to call you in the morning."  


"Okay. Um ... Jethro?"  


"Yeah?"  


"What's her first name?" She half expected him not to know.  


"Oh, er .. Eleanor. Ellie. She likes to be called Ellie. I'll get her to call you."  


"Yes, in the morning. You said."  


There was that awkward silence again ... _"This is ridiculous,"_ he thought. _"What are you? 16 or 60?"_ Lifting her chin with his finger, he leaned forward to kiss her, then stopped an inch from her mouth.  


"May I?" He whispered.  


"My God, yes," she replied breathlessly.

Their lips touched so very gently, tentatively. An electric shock raced through her body. She fell against him for more. He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. His strong and confident embrace made her feel safe and desired. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers running through the short hair at the nape. Her head cartwheeled. My God, he felt so good, tasted so good. But then her past reality stepped into the fore.  


Quite suddenly, she pulled away. She held his face as they kissed once more. She looked into his searing blue eyes begging for understanding. _"That's my cue,"_ he thought. He held her at arms length for a moment. "I think it's time I leave isn't it?" He asked, his voice husky. He cleared his throat trying to clear his head at the same time. She wasn't ready for the next step. It was all happening too fast. Her gaze fell to the floor. She was ashamed, afraid she'd been leading him on.

"Hey, it's okay. I know it's complicated. It's okay. Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked. She nodded, still staring down at the floor. He lifted her chin once more. There were tears threatening to fall. "It's okay. Really. I understand." He kissed her gently on the mouth once more. His lips barely touching hers. "It's okay. Go on in now," he prompted, nodding towards the door.  


She stepped across the threshold and closed the door. From behind the wood he heard a sob and then another. He held both sides of the door frame and quietly pressed his forehead against it. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He couldn't bare to hear her cry. He resisted the urge to knock. With a deep breath he stood, turned and walked towards the elevator. His lips tasting of hers.

She had melted into him. Wanted him completely. His arms had felt so perfect around her. But then her past had come crashing back in to ruin everything. The screaming arguments, the anger, the loathing, the pain. The scars both mental and physical. He would be disgusted by her body. By her fear. She couldn't ruin such a perfect evening and yet she had done exactly that. She slid down the closed door to the floor. She tried hard not to make a sound as she convulsed with sobs. Eventually, she stood, pushed the palms of her hands into her eyes, sniffed and with a deep breath walked towards the bedroom. Her lips tasting of his.

⌘⌘⌘  


“Bishop!" Gibbs yelled perhaps a little too harshly (well he hadn't slept much.) "Bishop!" She came scuttling in from the break area, a large bag of chips in her hand. How that woman stayed so thin was beyond him!  


"Yes Boss? Did I do something wrong Boss?”  


"No. Nothing like that."  


"Oh, it's just you seem in a bad mood today. Uh-oh, didn't she want to go to the dinner?"  


"No, it's not that She does want to go to the dinner. You earned yourself a hall pass today. You're going shopping. The rest is personal so don't ask."  


"Yes Sir. But you know,” she hesitated. “If you ever need a shoulder ... or an ear ... or something."  


"I appreciate that, thank you. But now I want you to take her shopping and go do 'girl stuff'. Have some fun. The pair of you deserve it." Bishop beamed from ear to ear. She hopped up and down excitedly and held out her hand. He looked at her confused for a moment.  


"What?"  


"Well you don't expect a girl to pay for her own gown do you?"

 _"Gowns? Aren't they like dresses only more expensive?"_ He thought to himself. After a moment, he shrugged. _"Who cares if it makes her smile."_ He reached for his wallet and opened it. Bishop leaned over his shoulder to see what he had in there ... apart from moths. He reached for bills.

"Oh, I wouldn't bother with paper money," Ellie advised sagely. He raised an eyebrow in question. He was so out of practice with this sort of thing.  


"No?"  


Bishop shook her head and stared at him with her large, faux-innocent eyes. "No. You'll need plastic money for this mission, Sir." He feigned annoyance, huffed at her and handed her his credit card. She snatched it excitedly from his hand and skipped off towards the elevator.  


"You know that's coming back charred and smouldering don't you Boss?" DiNozzo commented without raising his head from his paperwork.  


"I'm betting on 'melted'," McGee added with a grin.  


"Don't care," Gibbs barked. "When was the last time I had a chance to spend it on anyone? Now can we please get back to the case, guys? I'm going down to autopsy." He needed some advice. His mind was just so much mush right now. He couldn't keep his mind on the case. Perhaps his older and wiser friend could add some insight.

\---

“Hey Duck, can I ask you something?"  


"Why Jethro, I am always at your disposal, you know that. How can I be of assistance?" Gibbs looked across at Palmer who was studiously cleaning the same Petri dish for the third time.  


"Mr. Palmer, don't you have somewhere to be?" Asked Dr. Mallard.

Palmer took the hint, "Oh ... um ... I think Abby told me she needed some more ... " He looked around frantically for something Abby might be short off ... "Forceps! Yes, forceps just like these I have in my hand right here, in fact. How convenient is that? And they are definitely her size. Yes. I'll take them to her right now shall I?" Gibbs glared at him menacingly. "Yes, that would be right now then." The Autopsy Gremlin scuttled away. Gibbs waited for the door to close behind him. Ducky placed a fatherly hand on Gibbs' shoulder.  


“Now, Dear Boy, what seems to be the matter?  


Gibbs lowered his voice as if the other occupants of Autopsy might hear him from inside their drawers.  


"Does anyone really recover from spousal abuse Duck?"

Dr. Mallard thought as he cleaned his glasses. "Well I'm not really sure. Not my field I’m afraid. I'd hazard a guess that it's like any trauma. It would depend on the individual, the amount and duration of the trauma and the support they received afterwards. I assume we are talking about the same person?"  


Gibbs pursed his lips and shook his head. "There's something Duck. Something she's not telling me.” The Doctor continued,

"It can take years to recover from any trauma - something you know all too well. Self esteem can be almost non-existent. She likely feels unworthy of your attentions. There will be trust issues of course. She may even be afraid of you on a subconscious level. Go slowly, My Boy. She will tell you when she's ready, I have no doubt. Trust that famous gut of yours Jethro, patience will win out, you'll see."

\---

Back in the Bullpen that afternoon, he stood in front of the plasma screen discussing the case with McGee and DiNozzo. Abby stepped off the elevator twirling her parasol and looking particularly pleased about ... something. She nudged Gibbs' elbow as she passed him.  


"I know something you don't know," she sang in a childlike, sing-song voice.  


"I would hope so Abbs, you're a lot smarter than me."  


She was jumping up and down and giggling like a hyperactive toddler. This was definitely a triple-Caf-Pow-with-no-straw, high.  


"So you gonna tell me or what?" He demanded.  


"Nope. But you are gonna love it when you find out. And you're gonna thank me A LOT." She skipped off out of the Bullpen. "A LOT!" She threw back over her shoulder as she headed back to her lab. The three men looked at each other, bemused.

"What was that?" Gibbs asked the younger agents.  


"Beats me," said McGee.  


"I dunno,” added DiNozzo unhelpfully.  


They gave a collective shrug and turned back to the screen. Whatever it was, it would have to wait.

⌘⌘⌘ 

Gibbs stood nervously at her hotel door. As DiNozzo and McGee had predicted, his credit card came back well and truly fried! And someone still needed to explain a pedicure with fish to him.  


Bishop wouldn't tell him what else they'd bought ... It was a surprise he was told, but he would most definitely like it. He knocked on the door as he tugged at his dress shirt collar. He felt stupid - like a lovelorn teenager on prom night - Maybe he should have bought a corsage at the hotel gift shop. His bow tie was uncomfortable and his suit must have shrunk at the dry cleaners somehow!  


She opened the door.

"Wow," was all he could think to say. She beamed at him.  


"Why thank you. That was the correct answer.” She looked him up and down and nodded her approval (which was suddenly very important to him.) “You clean up okay yourself."  


"Just okay? I'll have you know it took almost as long to tie this tie as it did to find it!"  


"And it looks just fine," she cooed as she straightened it. Her hands slid down the lapels of his jacket. A spark crackled between them.

She wore a strapless gown of midnight blue. Her long silver hair fell loosely against her shoulders and down towards her waist. It was simple and chic and breath taking. She held up a cameo pendant hanging from a navy blue ribbon. "Would you help me with this?" She asked. "I can't tie a bow backwards." 

"Sure," He took the pendent from her. She turned around and lifted her hair away from her neck. A wave of Chanel No. 5 hit him. He tied the ribbon carefully, barely able to think. He so wanted to kiss her neck but instead, placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head - just so he could smell her hair.

As she let her hair fall back around her shoulders. He caught a glimpse of a jagged white mark maybe an inch across, that carried on down under her dress. _"Her past,"_ he reminded himself. _"Patience Jethro, patience."_

\---

He held the car door open for her and proffered his hand as she gracefully climbed out. He handed the valet the keys. She took his arm and they stepped into the lobby. While he checked his overcoat he heard the unmistakable Miss Sciutto talking excitedly.  


“Oh. My. God. You guys are just totally, totally adorable together. Look at you. Gibbs, you are SO handsome. I knew under all those coffee grounds and wood glue, there was some handsome guy trying to get out." She turned her attention to his companion, grinning widely.  


"Did he like it?"  


"Oh yeah, you could say that." Abby slapped her playfully on the arm.  


"And so he should. That dress is just perfect. It goes with his eyes. Look at you two, you're all co-ordinated and stuff." He leaned in between the two women.  


"Would you ladies mind not talking about me as if I'm not here?"  


"Why?" They asked in unison.  


He opened his mouth to respond but couldn't think of a clever reply and closed it again. He rolled his eyes. _"Women! He never had got the hang of them."_

Abby bounced in front of them as they tried to escape. "Hey I need some pictures. Can I take your picture?" Abby was back in ' Caf-Pow!' mode "Can I take your picture, Gibbs? Pl-e-e-a-se?"  


"No," said Gibbs fiercely.  


"Oh, let Abby take a photo. " She asked him. She leaned against him with her hand over his heart. Her face close to his. She whispered to him. "You're off duty now. Let you're friends a little closer. A picture won't hurt." He cleared his throat.  


"Sorry Abbs. I didn't mean to yell at you - of course you can take a picture." As they posed for Abby he whispered "I feel like half the room is watching us."  


"That's because they are, Sweetheart," she replied through her smile. He looked down at her.

 _"Sweetheart? I've never been called a 'Sweetheart' before.. A lot of other things ... Maybe I could get used to that,"_ he thought.  


Abby looked down at her phone. "Sweet!" She declared. "I can't wait to show the nuns."  


"Nuns? Abby knows nuns? " She asked, confused.  


"Long story," Gibbs replied.  


"Will she stop for breath soon?"  


"Eventually,"  


\---  


"There you are. I've been looking all over for you." Bishop came rushing up to them. She looked at him. Her mouth fell open in surprise.  


"Wow, Gibbs ... Just Wow!" Recovering her composure, she turned away from him.  


She turned her attention to his companion. "Hey, did he like the dress?"  


He rolled his eyes again. "Why do I have to like the dress?" The ladies ignored him.  


"Absolutely!" They giggled at each other conspiratorially. Something was going on ...

The reaction to their cleaned up boss seemed unanimous amongst the Bullpen even if DiNozzo did suggest a better tailor! The suit was perfectly good, Gibbs argued - He'd had it for years.  


"My point entirely, Boss," DiNozzo had argued back.

\---

They schmoozed their way around the room. He introduced her to various people from other agencies or departments. She knew she would never remember all the names. All except one that is - his best friend, Tobias whose eyes sparkled at her.  


“A pleasure to finally meet you Signorina. Jethro has told me so much about you."  


"No, no I haven't. He's making that up." Gibbs interjected nervously. He tried to give Tobias a subtle _"Go away,"_ signal but Fornell was having far too much fun. She was suitably flattered as he bowed and kissed the back of her hand. (Gibbs rolled his eyes.) “Only good things, I assure you. But tell me, what on Earth do you see in this old dinosaur?"

\---

They returned to their table in time for dinner. She sat next to Ducky who regaled her with so many stories, she hardly spoke to Jethro at all. Their hands would meet under the table occasionally. She found it reassuring - she was doing fine.  


Finally, with (awful) coffee served, the part of the evening he had been dreading the most began - dancing! The first time he took her out on the dance floor, he just wanted it to open up and swallow him whole. His friends were all watching them like they were on some kind of reality show. But a couple of bourbons and some champagne later, it wasn't so bad. And as the evening wore on and she melted against him as they danced, he forgot about their audience and revelled in her company. His focus narrowing to encompass his companion alone.  


"Do you get the impression we're being set up?" She asked as the number finished.  


"How do you mean?"  


"At every opportunity your friends keep telling me how great you are, how loyal, how trustworthy, how hard working ..."  


"They make me sound like a St. Bernard." He grumbled. "But yes, I think a certain amount of matchmaking is being attempted. You okay with that?"

She looked into those deep blue pools for the hundredth time that evening. "I am if you are." Then she smiled mischievously. He smiled back, nervously.  


"What?"  


"You know we're being watched, right?  


He laughed and looked heavenwards, "Oh, only since the minute we got out of the car."  


"D'you want to give them something to see?"  


"What exactly did you have in mind?" He asked, intrigued.  


"Kiss me - like you did the other night - before I got all weird on you".  


"Hey, I told you not to worry about that." She was looking down at the floor again. He really was going to have to work on that. He took her face in his hand for a second. "I said, it's was okay and I meant it."  


"I know. But I still want to make it up to you. Kiss me. Let them think their little plan worked."

They walked to a more secluded part of the room. He took her in his arms and bowed his head a little to kiss her gently once more. The memories of their first kiss came flooding back to him. The way she tasted. The way she smelled. The feel of her body against his. Their arms wrapped around each other more tightly, all awareness of their surroundings gone. They parted slightly breathless, holding on to each other. She looked into his eyes. The pupils were wide with desire. She knew hers were just the same. He pressed his cheek against hers and kissed behind her ear.  


"I think it's time for us to leave," he whispered.  


"Yes, I think you're probably right." She replied.

From across the room Abby held her phone surreptitiously filming.  


"Tell me you got that? Bishop whispered excitedly.  


"Oh, I did." They 'high fived' grinning from ear to ear.

Gibbs picked up his overcoat and draped it across her shoulders. They made a little chit-chat with Fornell while deciding how to get back to her hotel. Couldn't drive too much alcohol. No taxis within hailing distance. That left walking. They bid their goodnight to Fornell and turned toward the street. They walked slowly, enjoying the cool air and each other's company. She holding onto his arm. He carrying her purse and her shoes.  


Click, went Abby's camera. Operation New Mom was well and truly under way!

  
****

***WARNING: EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT***

So there they were again - at her hotel door. Less tentative this time, Gibbs pushed her gently against it, pinning her there with his body. His hand on her cheek, he kissed her boldly. She responded desperately to him. They eventually parted, light headed, gasping for air.  


"Shall we go inside?" He suggested.  


"Yes, yes that's a good idea," she flustered. He held her purse as she rummaged about in it for the key card. She tried the key. It wouldn't work. She tried again. And a third time. Still nothing. "Oh, for Pete's sake!" She exclaimed. She turned to face him, her face a picture of frustration. "Well, I guess we have to go and find the concierge." He was smiling very slightly and looking adoringly at her. "What?" She snapped. "Am I amusing you?"

He leaned his body into her again. He kissed her neck, then rested his cheek against hers. "Ssh ... " He whispered soothingly. "Ssh ... Relax. You're okay. It's okay." He kissed behind her ear gently as he took the key card from her hand and unlocked the door. He put an arm around her waist and guided her inside.  


They walked across the threshold and the door swung gently closed behind them. As the catch caught in the lock they both dropped everything they had been carrying and lunged for each other. His jacket came off. He kicked his shoes off. She pulled at his shirt. They kissed with passion and desperation.  


"Bedroom?" He asked.  


"Bedroom," she agreed.

He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. He kissed her with renewed determination. And then he felt her resist slightly. _"Oh no, not again,"_ his body screamed at him. She pulled away and held his hands. "There's something I have to tell you."  


_"I knew it!"_ He thought. He waited patiently.  


"It's just, it's been a while since I've done anything like this." She looked awkwardly at him.

He shrugged. "It's been a while for me too." She shook her head.  


"No, you don't understand," she stressed. "I mean, it's been a really, really long while."  


"How long exactly?" She was right, he really didn't understand where this was going. She chewed her bottom lip anxiously. She hesitated for a moment. Then she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and said, "Twenty two years." He paused for a second. Had he heard that right?  


"What? Did you say 22 years? Years?" She was looking at the floor again. She nodded in acknowledgement. "You mean you haven't had ... haven't ... in over 20 years?"

She twisted her hands anxiously. She took a step back and began to pace. "Well, I never found anyone and then work got busy and ... you know how it goes ... and time goes by and you stop thinking about it ... and then you start thinking about it again and you suddenly realise it's been ... 22 ... years ..." She rambled on still looking at the carpet.  


"So you've been thinking about it again huh?" She still wouldn't look at him but she blushed heavily. He smiled to himself. He thought it absolutely adorable. "So what changed your mind tonight?" He asked gently.  


She looked him straight in the eye. "I know you won't hurt me."

  


He closed his eyes for a second to hide the heartache behind them. He stepped towards her and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He kissed her hair, her forehead then pressed his cheek to hers. His mouth close to her ear. "I would NEVER hurt you." He whispered. Sighing, he stopped to think for a second. He held her at arms length, looking down at her, still trying to catch her eye for more than a moment.

"Okay, so let's take this a little slower shall we? We'll take it a step at a time. You can stop me whenever you need to. And I will stop. I promise you. I would never hurt you. Okay?" She nodded still staring at the floor. "Hey, Look at me. I'm up here remember?" He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently but firmly. "No more down at the floor." The kiss continued to linger upon her lips. “Are you sure you're okay with this?” He asked. 

Her head was spinning. Her body already aching for his. “My God, yes.” She gasped breathlessly.

His lips moved to her neck, behind her ear, her shoulder. His fingers fumbled with the zip of her dress. Finally, it co-operated and the gown fell to the floor. It had indeed been a beautiful gown. He stepped back a little to see what he had uncovered. He smiled, delighted.  


"Is that a real corset?" She put her hands on her waist and pirouetted.  


"Steel bones and everything! Abby says a dress is only as good as the under garments beneath it."  


"Is that so?"

She nodded. “Her Sister Rosita told her apparently – although when she said that I thought she actually had a sister called Rosita. I guess I misheard.” 

"Ah, so the nuns were in on this as well. Well far from me to argue with Sister Rosita,” he agreed.

He stared at her cinched waist and beautifully rounded breasts. He smiled appreciatively. "Remind me to thank her the next time I see her." He added. Now all he had to do was figure out how to get her out of it. He held her hand to help her step out of her dress. He patted the end of the bed.  


“Come and sit down”. She sat. He knelt down and taking one foot in his hands began to massage the in-step. She groaned in pleasure.  


"I’d say that was better than sex, but I don’t actually remember," She laughed self consciously.  


_"Jokes? ... That's a good sign, right?"_ he thought. He kissed the in-sole before putting it down and starting on the other foot.

She threw herself back on the bed. "Oh my God, that's wonderful. I could make a fortune renting you out to do that. Oh, you are so good with your hands!"

He chuckled. “So I've been told but I’m not for sale,” he laughed as he kissed the foot before putting it down and moving on to her calf, her knee and finally, her thigh. She made soft sighing noises with each kiss and each touch of his hands. The jokes had stopped as she focused on his ministrations.

He became vaguely aware of a scar on her knee. He shook it off. But there at the top of her stocking on the inside of her thigh was definitely, definitely the scar from a cigarette burn. He closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly realising the degree of trust she had bestowed upon him. He kissed the scar. His lips lingering for just a moment too long. She realised what he'd found and tried to hide the scar with her hand. He brushed it aside, holding it gently as he continued to kiss around her stocking top. She gasped as just briefly, his lips brushed against the silk and lace between her thighs with a promise of more to follow.

  


He took a change in position to divest himself of his clothes. She hadn't seemed to noticed - Her body so full of delightful sensations. Her brain was way beyond anything like thought. He watched the almost hypnotic rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed heavily waiting for him to lay with her.

"Now," he wondered out loud, "how do I unwrap my surprise?" He tugged cluelessly at the corset. "What? Do I have to say 'Open Sesame' or something?”  


She laughed playfully. "Do you need some help, Sweetheart?"  


_''Sweetheart. Yes, I definitely like that ."_ He decided. He paid attention as she undid the top busk of the corset. Her breasts were released from their confinement. Her breathing got heavier. Their eyes met as he reached for her.

He kissed between her breasts as the second husk followed the first. Slowly, he unwrapped her from it. It too, had looked amazing but just like the dress, it had to go.

He lay on his side looking down at her. He ran his hand up under her breast cupping it and rubbing his thumb across her nipple. Her skin was smooth and soft and fragrant. The nipple responded urgently to his touch. He took it in his mouth and sucked gently. He felt it crinkle and lengthen in his mouth. She groaned and placed a hand upon his neck keeping him in place.  


He smiled inwardly. _"That's my girl."_ She let out another groan of pleasure. He continued to explore her body. Inch by inch, kiss by tender kiss. He loved the way she tasted. The goose bumps that flushed across her body at his touch. The gasps, the moans. She lay on the bed her eyes closed, her back arched. She was so, so ready. Her body silently pleading for him. It was taking all of his self control not to move on any faster. The anticipation was driving each of them mad.

He continued to kiss down the length of her body. Abruptly, the sighs and moans stopped. He felt her tense beneath him and once again, her hands blocked his way. This time she was more determined. She was extremely anxious and close to tears. She had started to tremble and resisted him moving her hands. "It's okay," he coaxed. "Let me see. It's okay, I promise."  


"I can't." She lay rigidly against him. "It's just too hideous."

He moved back up her body. He kissed her gently, longingly until the trembling began to subside. He looked into her eyes and stroked her hair. "You're okay. You're safe here with me. Nothing can hurt you, you have my word. Let me see." She still resisted. He lay his hand on hers and held it tenderly. He whispered soothingly, "I promise you, it will be all right."

Reluctantly, she let him push her hands away. He took a deep breath. The scar tissue was jagged in places. There was evidence of surgery and stitches. Low on her stomach, a permanent bruise, shockingly resembling part of a boot print. He kissed the scar and lay his head upon her belly. He wrapped his arms around her waist holding her tightly and closed his eyes. A moment of rage flashed across his mind. It lodged in his throat, choking him. If only he'd known at the time what that bastard had done. He'd have killed him right there.

She ran her hand softly through his hair to break his thoughts. "I'll understand if you want to get dressed now." She whispered sadly - her voice reflecting the sorrow and shame she carried inside her. He looked up at her. Her face was filled with such heartache. He vowed he would rid her of it. He pulled himself back up her body until they were facing each other. Despite his earlier efforts she would not look at him. He found the look of sorrow across her face utterly heart breaking.  


"Hey," He coaxed, kissing her cheek gently. There was no response. "Hey, come on now, you promised you would look at me." He asked more firmly. She eventually she complied. “That's my girl,” he whispered and brushed her hair from her face. He stared into her eyes desperately trying to take her pain from her. "Nothing could be further from the truth. Nothing. I am not going anywhere."

He cradled her in his arms rocking her gently. He kissed her head and stroked her hair, overwhelmed by a sudden need to protect her. She wrapped her arms around him relishing the feel of his body against hers. It had been so very long since she had lain this close to anyone. Breathing in his scent, feeding on his strength. She pulled her embrace tighter. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Are you okay? Shall we stop for tonight?"  


She leaned up on one elbow. "No. No I don't want to stop. I thought you would want to stop. I thought you would find me ugly. I thought ... "

He captured her mouth with his own. He kissed her passionately, desperate to prove her wrong. His hands explored her body more urgently. Her body rising to meet them. She could feel his own response to her. He sighed as she began her own exploration of his body. Her hands light and cool to the touch, her kisses hot on his skin. He gasped for breath and took her hands. She looked up at him. "Time to take a break I think. I promised you a step at a time. We're about to jump a whole handful. You're making this very hard."  


She grinned, "Yes, I can see."  


He looked away bashfully. "Well, I'm trying not to rush but he's not quite so patient!" He ran his hand slowly down her body once again. "Let's slow it down again. I want you to remember tonight for all the right reasons ... Now, where was I?" He asked playfully. "Oh yeah ..."

He pushed her gently back on the bed and kissed her stomach softly once more. His kisses continued down until he again met silk and lace. He changed position so that he could slowly pull her underwear down. Her legs parted for him and he watched in fascination as the petals between her thighs began to swell and moisten and part.  


He lowered his head and touched her very centre with the tip of his tongue. Her cry was electrifying. Her hands in his hair, her hips bucked upwards to meet his mouth, her thighs parting further for him. He tried to calm her but to no avail. "No, I can't, I can't . It has to be now. Now, please now." She was panting with twenty years of unreleased need. Her back arched, she threw her head back. Her every focus on his actions. He lowered his mouth back to her. Her cry was louder. His tongue circling languidly. He pressed a finger against her opening and her body pushed against him in immediate response - Tightening around him, urgently moving with him.

Her movements were becoming faster and more demanding, pushing her ever closer to her peak. Her hips ground against his hand. She mewled like a cat. He looked up to see her completely immersed in the pleasure he offered - her body writhing on the bed in complete abandon. He lowered his head once more. He ran his tongue the length of her, tasting her on his fingers.  


She convulsed into waves of ecstasy. She pulled at his hair, pushed her body further onto his hand. She cried - tears of joy and tears of sorrow. Twenty years! Twenty years alone in the wasteland. And before then, it had been nothing like this. No gentleness, no care, No compassion. Pain and bruises. Harsh, quick and done. But this? This was joyous. This was incredible.  


Her response to him was mesmerizing. She was his. Completely. And he had to have her. He would not, could not wait a second longer. He climbed up her body. Their eyes met. Her’s were desperate, longing. "Please." she whispered imploring him, "Please, be inside me. I need you inside me."

In one swift movement he plunged into her. She lifted her hips up to meet his. She cried out in joy and wrapped her legs tightly around him. She was wild and hungry for him. She began to tighten her inner muscles around him. It felt sublime. He matched her urgent rhythm. She felt hot and moist around him. He was aware of nothing else. They kissed deeply, her whole body melting itself against his.  


"You taste of me," she smiled.  


He was desperately trying to stay in control for just a little while longer. That one sentence was enough to send him tumbling over the edge. His body refused to listen to him. The feel of her limbs wrapped around him, holding him tightly inside her was too much to ignore,. His pace quickened. He closed his eyes - every fibre of his being focused on the woman beneath him - Accepting him so completely.

Their bodies writhed in synchrony. . The rest of the world disappeared. He could feel her desire urgently rising once more. Her breath was short, her movement becoming less coordinated. He laced his fingers through hers, ground his body deeper into hers. "Look at me. Open your eyes and look at me." He demanded.  


She stared into his searing blue eyes. She could have dived into their pools and never come up - happy to drown there. The pleasure he created was fast overwhelming her. Her eyes rolled back, her body arched. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He rested his cheek against hers and rode out her orgasm with her. She wept for joy, engulfed in the flood of emotions swirling around her.

As her movements subsided and her breathing calmed, he lay her gently back down on the bed. He lay within her quietly. He kissed her softly at first and then gradually with more passion as his own desires grew. He was deep within her. He relished the smooth, tight movements around him. She tilted her hips up and wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles behind him. His movements slammed ever faster into her. He looked up at her briefly. She was watching his every response to her. She stared lovingly into his eyes, kissed him briefly and whispered, "Come for me, my Love."

Every shred of self control he ever thought he had was lost. His cry matched her's as he released all that he was, all that he would ever be into her. His world contained nothing but her. Her heat, her sound, her scent. It tumbled around him. A swirling kaleidoscope of sensation and pleasure. He was hers and hers alone.  


  


The overwhelming emotion left him raw and vulnerable. His arms gave way and he sank against her body. Holding her close to him and hiding his face in her hair. She lowered her legs to rest upon his thighs.. She stroked his hair, kissed his face and rocked them both gently as they lay clinging to each other in their post-coital haze.

Eventually, she felt his body leave hers. He kissed her tenderly. "That was amazing," she gasped. He could only nod in agreement. His eyes still closed, aware of nothing it seemed but her. He kissed her once more and opened his eyes. They swept across her face frantically trying to imprint the moment forever to his memory and his heart. He looked deeply into her eyes - Into her very soul it seemed and kissed her tenderly. Then he curled around her body, wrapping her tightly in his arms as they spooned together. Their bodies warm, the sheets crisp, they began to doze. He leaned in and kissed behind her ear.  


"I will never hurt you," he promised and drifted off to sleep.


	3. Olive

****

**Chapter Three - Olive**

"Hey there. Good morning," He'd been watching her for maybe half an hour before she stirred. The sun glinted through her hair and made it shine silver. He'd wanted to wake her but at the same time, she looked so peaceful it was a shame to disturb her. The sun in her hair, the feel of the sheets. The world was good. If he could just stay exactly where he was, it would stay that way forever. _"Sex could do that."_ He thought to himself. _"No,"_ he corrected, _"good sex could do that." ... "No, that still wasn't right. ... "Good sex with the right person, could do that."_

He was going through his mental highlights when she awoke. She smiled at him. She glowed at him. He leaned over to kiss her. She sat up abruptly, pushing him away. "You can't kiss me,"  


"What?! Why?" He was mortified.  


"I haven't brushed my teeth. Morning breath. Gross. Won't let you. Yuck."  


"I don't care. What? Not even a little kiss, good morning?"  


"Nope" She wriggled out of his grasp, giggling. Stood, ran across the bed, jumped down and into the bathroom slamming the door behind her. Oblusions were heard. He leaned against the headboard, one hand behind his head, smiling to himself. _"Crazy chick,"_ he thought. The door opened and she smiled at him again. "Better?" He asked exasperated.  


"Better." She sat on the edge of the bed. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. They kissed joyously. She felt light-headed and giddy. _"Sex could do that."_ She thought to herself. _"No, good sex and the right person, could do that."_ She corrected. 

"Do you have plans today?" She asked when they finally broke for air. "D'you want to go somewhere, do something."  


"I know what I want to do right now ..." He replied grinning. She grinned back at him.  


"Oh is that so?" She laughed.  


"Oh that's absolutely so," he replied. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her breast. A gasp escaped her lips. Damn, he felt so good. She pulled him across her body and captured him between her thighs. They rejoiced in the touch of each others' body. The feel of skin against skin; caressing and exploring each other. Their desires building quickly once again ... The rest of the world could wait. 

⌘⌘⌘  


"Breakfast?" He looked at his watch as he buttoned his shirt. "Lunch? ... Late lunch?"  


"That's not my fault - you got into the shower with me." She complained playfully.  


"Yeah, but you were all naked ..." He shrugged defensively.  


"People generally are when they're in the shower."  


"And I just had to have you again. It was his idea," he said innocently, nodding downwards. "I had nothing to do with it!" 

Flashbacks of their morning filled her head. His kisses, her sighs, his sweet, sweet touch. She sidled up to him seductively. Wrapping her arms around his neck she whispered, "You know there's always dinnertime?" She bit his ear lobe gently. Kissed his neck. He took her hands in his and held them to his heart.  


"Stop that," he was laughing. "We've only just managed to get dressed. We have to get outta here before one of us has a heart attack!" His hands travelled to her waist. "What is this she-devil I've woken?"  


"That is also, most definitely, your fault."  


"Yes Ma'am and I was very, very happy to oblige. Now come on. We'll pick up my car, I gotta change my clothes and then we'll find somewhere to eat. Plan?"  


"Don't care. I just want to be with you. But I must say, the 'Crumpled Evening Wear' Look is very 'in' right now and you do it so well!."  


"Well you didn't exactly give me time to hang up my jacket." 

⌘⌘⌘  


"That you Boss?"  


_"Oh no, this can not be happening."_ He turned around. DiNozzo stood before him trying not to smirk. "I've just come to pick up my car." He said pointing vaguely towards the parking lot  


"Uh-huh," DiNozzo was grinning now from ear to ear. "I left my phone in the bar last night." He explained as he took a sideways glance at Gibbs' attire. "They were good enough to keep it for me." There was a pause. Gibbs waited patiently. He knew what was coming _“wait for it ... wait for it ...”_ DiNozzo couldn’t contain himself any longer. "Not make it home then, eh Boss?"

Gibbs tried pulling rank. He pointed at DiNozzo with a threatening finger. "Not one word about this. Not one, DiNozzo."  


"Me Boss? I wouldn't." Tony replied, feigning offence.  


Gibbs sighed. He knew his implied threat would make not one iota of difference. He tried reasoning with perhaps a dash of desperate begging on the side. "Tony, please. Don't tell the others. It'll be all over the office by sundown."

As the words fell out of his mouth, he knew it was hopeless. There was absolutely no chance that his private life would remain just that. That ship had most definitely sailed.

\---

She came skipping down the stairs to join him. Her entire focus on Gibbs, she failed to notice the younger agent carefully haranguing him. "The valet says he remembers us and it doesn't matter that we lost the ticket. It was still another 35 bucks for an extra day's parking, though." She grimaced before realising that Gibbs was looking somewhat uncomfortable and staring at someone behind her. She twisted around to see who was there. "Oh hello, Tony!" She smiled broadly at DiNozzo before feeling the need to explain. "We lost the valet ticket. It's probably on the floor somewhere,"  


"Of your hotel room?" DiNozzo chimed in. She nodded - oblivious to what he was doing.  


"We looked everywhere, didn't we, Sweetheart? Couldn't find it."  


DiNozzo caught Gibbs’ eye, raised his eyebrows and mouthed "Sweetheart?" Gibbs looked heavenward in exasperation. Today had been going so well. They should have just stayed at the hotel. He'd still be smiling if they had. She rambled on.

"The guy said he remembers Jethro carrying my shoes. He figured we wouldn't be back for the car last night. Wasn't that nice of him? They really are nice here aren't they? I really like them here. They're so nice," she babbled.  


"Wow, now there's service for you, eh Boss?" Grinned DiNozzo. "My, my, you're very chipper this afternoon, Ma'am. And may I say, what a lovely smile."  


Gibbs closed his eyes. That's it, he was doomed. Now the whole building would know from Accounting to Warehousing. "At last!" He was saved by the car pulling up. He tipped the valet way too much, helped her into her seat and pulled away just a little too fast. As he looked back in the rear view mirror, Tony was already on his phone.

⌘⌘⌘  


"So, why don't you have any beds at your place?"  


They were back at the diner. It suited her just fine. Simple food, well made and nice people - yeah, she got why it meant so much to him. In a city full of First World pretensions, it was down to earth, honest, real. He put down his fork and finished chewing..  


"The master bedroom was mine and Shannon's room and the small room was Kelly's. The middle room was a kind of guest bedroom for a while. Even when I remarried, I couldn't get that out of my head. My other wives didn't like it much, of course."  


"Of course."  


"And then, I retired - went to stay with a buddy in Mexico. So I packed up a lotta stuff - Figured I would never need it again.”  


"How long did you stay retired?" She asked knowingly.  


He gave a short laugh. "That obvious huh? About four months. I'm not the retiring type, it seems. When I came back, I just never got round to unpacking a lot of it. Now most of upstairs is taken up with storing things - mine and my Dad's. I gotta go through it all one day.  


The main bedroom is still out of bounds, I guess. I've tried, but I can't sleep there. I sleep just fine on the couch though. Living on my own, I haven't really needed a bed." 

"But what if you're um ... 'entertaining'?" He looked shyly at her.  


"That hasn't happened for a long time."  


"But when it did?" She continued.

He smiled bashfully, "Well, I’d try to go back to her place."  


"That worked." She laughed.  


A bigger smile "Oh that it did!!" 

They continued their meal in contented silence for a while. As each took a sip from their coffee, their eyes met over the rims of the cups. They smiled quietly at one another. "So, you wanna go back to my place?" She asked.  


"The hotel?"  


"Boston. I have to fly back tomorrow night, remember? Come with me? I've got a bed and everything." He reached for her hand.  


"Everything huh? How could I possibly resist that?!” He sighed. “I wish it was that easy but I have to put in a leave request, it has to be approved and so on. Unlike you, young lady, I work for somebody else. I have to ask them first."  


She pulled an unhappy face. "Come back to the hotel tonight though? I have to pack."  


"Sure. Can I meet you back there? I have some stuff to do and I'll grab some extra clothes. Then I can take you to the airport in the evening."  


"What makes you think you're staying over?" She asked playfully.  


"My ability to 'entertain'" he suggested confidently. He got up from the table and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you in a couple' hours." 

⌘⌘⌘  


They were both exhausted. Lack of sleep will do that. They'd spent the night making love and talking, talking and making love. Sleep would only have brought the morning all the quicker. They'd decided not to let it. Now they stood in the departures lounge waiting for her flight to be called, holding hands and stifling yawns. They hardly spoke - their communication beyond words now. The flight announcement was made. She buried her face in his overcoat. "I don't want to go."  


"You've got to. We both have obligations. We'll see each other in a couple of weeks. It won't be so bad once we both get back to work. Call me when you get home though so I don't worry, okay?"  


They kissed for a long time - completely oblivious to the people around them who were trying not to stare. The third and last call for her flight came across the tannoy. This time, they had to pay attention. She let go of him sadly and walked towards the gate. He watched until any glimpse of her was gone. He turned towards the parking lot. His arms felt heavy with emptiness. 

⌘⌘⌘  


"Hey Bishop," Grace gravelled into the phone. She did her best to sound casual.  


"Hello Dr. Grace. What's up? Is Gibbs okay?" 

That he was seeing a head shrinker was most likely, the worse kept secret on the Yard. Despite his official denial, EVERYBODY knew who Dr. Grace Confelone was and why she hung around with Gibbs sometimes. He knew that they knew; and they knew not to mention it, so everything was cool.  


"Oh yeah," Grace's New Jersey accent drawled. "I'd say he's just peachy right now. So, I'm here at the airport seeing my mother-in-law off and who am I looking at? He's sitting in the coffee shop holding hands very publicly with some woman. Is he under cover or is he for real? Has Popeye found a new Olive?"  


"Oh gosh, yes." Replied Ellie. "Has he not mentioned her when you're ... er... together?"  


"No. No, not a word. How long's this been going on?"  


"Well, they've been seeing each other for a couple of months but it only got ... um ... you know, this weekend, after the Inter-agency Dinner on Friday."  


"Oh? And you know this how?"

Ellie looked around the office, there was no-one around, typical of a Sunday afternoon shift. She thought back to the kiss she and Abby had witnessed. It was just so ... so ... She related the evening's events to Grace.  


"You should have seen them, Grace. They were just so ... so ... sweet." She sighed happily. "And then Tony bumped into them yesterday afternoon and said something about wrinkled jackets and parking tickets and then something else about bouncy steps." She shrugged.  


"Okay, I get the picture." Grace swivelled around a pillar so Gibbs wouldn't see her. "So Bishop, d'you think this is a good thing?"  


"Oh yes, absolutely. Until he screws it up - and sadly, everyone here seems in agreement that he will eventually screw it up in some way."

Grace continued hiding behind the pillar. She watched the couple kiss and embrace before the woman turned and handed her ticket to the flight attendant. She turned back to Gibbs sadly. He nodded towards the gate and she turned and headed towards her plane. He stood with his hands in his coat pockets dejectedly as he watched her walk away. Eventually, the gate closed and he turned towards the parking lot. As he walked passed her hiding place, Grace spun around it to stay out of his line of sight.  


"Hello Grace. See ya Friday."Gibbs barked as he strode passed her.

⌘⌘⌘  


"So Gibbs, this must be a bit like when you were on deployment. Except this time, you're the one left at home to wait?" Abby was in her dungarees painting the door to the spare room; her hair wrapped in an old neckerchief she'd found in the basement.  


Gibbs stopped what he was doing and thought for a moment. "She's in Boston Abbs, not a war zone."  


"I don't mean the danger part, Gibbs. I mean the waiting part. The loneliness part. The shoe's on the other foot now, huh Gibbs?"  


"I'm not lonely Abbs. We talk on the phone every night. But the waiting? Yeah, I suppose." He sighed. "Yeah, time is definitely NOT flying. But work and stuff like this is keeping me busy." He nodded around the room. He wanted to make the guest room nice again so she could stay with him if she wanted. He'd asked the girls for help with colours and soft furnishing - not something he ever thought about ... ever.

"Something feminine but not too many frills," he advised.  


"Cos you'll be sleeping here too, right?" Abby asked not at all subtly. He decided to ignore the question.  


"I just don't think she likes anything too over the top that's all."  


"And you'll be sleeping here too?" She tried again.  


"Maybe," he answered non-commitally. "But that's up to her. I'll respect whatever she chooses."  


"Oh, that's so sweet," crooned Abby clutching her paintbrush to her heart. He grimaced at her.  


"Stop that!" He said fiercely. "I am not 'sweet'. I'm a lotta things but 'sweet' ain't one of them, okay?"  


"Okay, Gibbs. Not sweet. Got it." She saluted.  


"Other hand, Abbs," he corrected, irritably. He heard the front door open. She changed hands and stood to attention as he headed passed her for the stairs.  


"Sweet." She replied.

\--

"Hey Boss, we're back." Tony and McGee shouted as they came through the door. Their lack of DIY skills had been driving him nuts. McGee wasn't too bad but Tony's skills stopped at a designer labelled plaid shirt –who knew that such a thing existed!. His nerves couldn't take anymore so he had sent them out on an errand. He had risked a lot trusting them with a lumber order - not least of all his friendship with the guys at the yard. He'd written it all down very carefully. Let's hope they got it right. He checked the list, twice and sent then down to the basement with it. He was headed back upstairs when Bishop came in. She had been charged with the most important task of all ... buying a bed. 

"You didn't want a ... single bed ... did you, Boss?" She was giving him that "wide eyed innocence" routine again. It didn't wash.  


He rolled his eyes, "Well what do you think?" He asked in exasperation. She held up her hands.  


"I was just checking. I didn't want to make any assumptions."  


"Oh you didn't huh? This is all your fault anyway you know!"  


"How's that Sir?" Again with the innocence and an amused half smile.  


"You helped her buy that dress!" He replied in a faux annoyed stage whisper.  


"And you," he pointed at Abby as she came down the stairs "helped her buy that corset! ... and I have to thank the both of you." He added with a faint smile. 

"Did somebody say corset?" DiNozzo piped up as he came up from the basement.  


"Oh, we were just making a recommendation to Gibbs to help his back - with all the lifting and all," Abby explained.  


"I'd pay to see that!" Tony threw back with a smirk.

\---

By the end of the weekend, the room was finished. Walls and woodwork stripped and painted. New carpet laid. New bed delivered. The girls had done a real nice job with tasteful drapes and bedding. Much pizza had been eaten. Much beer had been drunk. Bonds of friendship strengthened. ... and now that they had all gone home he could be left in peace to make the rest of the furniture. Life was good. She would be back in two weeks and then it would be complete. 

⌘⌘⌘  


His desk phone rang. "Gibbs" he barked into it. Almost instantly his demeanour softened. He lowered his voice slightly. "Hey, Babe."  


'Babe'?' Mouthed McGee before he froze with fear. Gibbs' body language had changed abruptly and his voice got louder. "No, no. It's okay. I understand." He fiddled with the office detritus on his desk looking instantly miserable. "These things happen. ... What? No ... Well of course I'm disappointed but it can't be helped. We'll be together soon enough. Sure. I'll call you later. Bye."  


"Everything okay, Boss?" Asked McGee, cautiously.  


"No." He answered irritably. "And please don't ask if I want to talk about it. You already know the answer."  


"Right, Boss." McGee replied. "This is me, not asking." He turned back to his computer, gratefully. Surreptitiously he messaged the others,  


"New Mom cancelled out this weekend. Stay away from the Bullpen if you value the back of your head."

  
****

***WARNING: EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT***

  


"Hey you," Gibbs said softly into the phone. "Y'all done for the day?"  


He heard her smile into the phone. "Hey back. It's late. You didn't answer my calls. Have you been in the basement all night? How's my surprise coming on?" She asked.  


"Oh it's nearly there. Of course it will have to wait now ..."  


"You have to understand, Sweetheart. I couldn't leave. My second was in a car wreck. What else was I supposed to do? What would you have done if it had been Tony?"  


"Hey, I said it's okay. Really, I understand. I'm just disappointed that's all - you can't blame me for that. I just really wanted to be with you this weekend.  


She sighed deeply. "I know, I know. You and me both," she groaned. "I miss you too."

She could feel his mouth closer to the phone somehow. There was a pause as if he were deciding something. "How much do you miss me?" He eventually whispered. 

"More than you could possibly imagine."  


"Oh, I have a pretty good imagination. Tell me what you miss." His voice was barely above a whisper and hoarse with pent up emotion. "Why don't you tell me? Give me something to think about."

She sat across the arms of her old leather armchair next to the fire. She was wrapped in a quilt and her comfy pyjamas. She thought of him lying on the couch at home before turning in for the night, a glass of bourbon and a book by his side. She imagined she was lying there with him. "I miss the way you hold me. I always feel safe with your arms around me. And I miss the way you kiss the top of my head when you think I'm asleep."  


"Can you feel my arms around you now?" She pulled the quilt around her a little more and sank down into it.  


"Kinda."  


"What else do you miss?"

"I miss the way you kiss me. You're a very expressive kisser you know. You have lots of different ones."  


"I do?" He sounded surprised.  


"Yes, you do." She replied. She had clearly given the matter a great deal of thought. "You have kisses that are just to make some kind of contact. A bit like a 'hello'. There are 'you're okay, I'm right here' kisses. There are 'I want you', kisses and then there are 'I'm having you' kisses - They're my current favourite. I would really, really like one of those right now!" She paused a second. "Hmm, the lexicon of kissing ... could be a new research paper for Abby."  


"As long as I don't have to demonstrate."  


"Only to me," she promised. She gave a groan of frustration. "I really need you to kiss me now. I so need to feel your lips on mine. That gentle way you have ... at least to begin with." He could hear the smile in her voice. "My lips are all tingly just thinking about it."  


"Which ones?"  


She gasped, "I can't believe you just said that!" She said, feigning offence. "Leroy, Jethro Gibbs, that was just so dirty! ... " she giggled.  


"Well, are you going to answer the question?"  


She hesitated for a moment self-consciously, then a mischievous smile spread across her face. "Both," she said quickly. "Aren't we a bit old for this kind of thing?"  


"Nope. You make me feel all young again." He answered. He laughed, "So you gonna play the game or what?"

He heard her smile. She shook her head and sighed, resigned. "I can't believe I'm doing this!" She giggled.

"Shush! Now concentrate. Where were we? Oh yeah, I was kissing your lips and you hadn't decided which ones ... Where else would you like me to kiss you?" She listened to his breathing. She closed her eyes and imagined him with her. She could see his face, feel his hands upon her.  


"I love the way you kiss my neck and my breasts. The way you nuzzle into me until my nipples are hard and aching. Until I have to beg you to touch me. I like that a LOT." Her hand brushed against her breast. She tease the nipple until it was hard under her fingers. She pinched it and gasped into the phone.  


"What are you doing?" He asked - already guessing the answer.  


"Pretending you're here." She replied.  


"Where are you touching yourself?" He rasped.  


"My breasts. They're swollen and the nipples are tight. I'm imagining your mouth on them. Sucking on them." Her breathing was becoming more ragged. She focused on his face behind her eyes. She gave a low groan. She could feel her body responding to his imaginary touch. The memory of him inside her. His movements, his caresses. She gave another moan.

"Take your hand lower," he whispered.  


She parted her legs further, letting one slide from the arm of the chair. Her hand travelled the length of her body. She groaned as her fingers reached her most sensitive parts. "My God, I wish this was you." She stroked herself rhythmically. She was ready for him at the merest thought. He could hear her arousal growing, becoming more insistent. If he'd been there he would have seen her face and breasts flush pink. She gasped into the phone.  


"Are you enjoying that thought?" He asked. "I think you're enjoying that thought a lot. If I were there right now I could watch you enjoying that thought. Would you like me to watch you?"  


"Oh, yes," was all she managed to mumble. Her hips moving rhythmically in time with her hand.  


"If I was watching you right now, I might have to lean in real close. Can you feel my breath on you?" He blew gently into the phone. She moaned as she imagined him kneeling by the chair. Maybe pushing her knees apart gently for a better view. Her ministrations grew faster. Her breath quickened. Her fingers now inside her, stroking herself into a rising frenzy. He could hear her getting closer to the edge. He knew if he pushed the right buttons just a little more she would give in to her self pleasure completely.  


"I might have to kiss your fingers to see what you taste like. I like the way you taste." He whispered into her ear. "Am I going to watch you come soon? I need you to come soon. Then I can dip my tongue into you and see how you taste."

She let out a cry as her orgasm shook her very consciousness. Her breathing shuddered down the phone. He smiled to himself in satisfaction. _"That's my girl,"_ he thought. _"That was a powerful one!"._

"Did you like that?" He asked "That was a good one huh?" Her world was still tumbling. She was gasping for breath.

"Oh my God. That was so, so good and so very, very bad!" She babbled deliriously. "What are you doing to me, Gibbs? I was never like this before we met. I spend half my day aroused just thinking about you. I see sex in everything. I can't stop and all the time I thinking of us together. It's like I've turned into some kind of sex monster and it's all your fault!"  


"I'm very glad to hear that. I take full responsibility." he chuckled. "Right now though, I need you to do something for me, okay?" He asked.  


"Anything, my Love. Anything at all."  


"Good, because I really need you to get out of that chair and come and open the door." She sat up, abruptly, startled.  


"What?"  


"The reason I didn't answer earlier Babe, was because I was on a plane. I've been watching you through the window the whole time." He laughed. "Now open this door before I'm forced to break it down!"

She ran to the door and flung it open. He turned to face her, smiling broadly and closed his phone. She flung her arms around his neck, kissing him wildly. "I need you on a bed in about ten seconds" He said in between kisses. "He's not gonna wait much longer."  


She led the way to her apartment ripping at his clothes as she went. She threw herself on the bed giggling. "Come and get me Sir. I've been a bad, naughty, wicked girl."  


"Oh I couldn't agree more!" He took her right hand and sucked her fingers into his mouth, tasting her. They kissed hungrily as they hurriedly undressed each other. He climbed up her body and settled between her thighs. It felt so good to have their bodies entwined once more. He kissed her deeply. Her body folded around him like a glove. He held onto her tightly for a moment drinking in her perfume and the feel of her skin against his. He closed his eyes to block out the world.  


He was home.


	4. Home

****

**Chapter Four - Home**

Her place in Boston was tiny - One large room in a brown stone building with a bathroom and kitchenette off it. Judging by the cupboards in the kitchen, she cooked as much as he did. Coffee, milk (about to turn), breakfast cereal, bread (mouldy). Yeah, that seemed about right

"Ready for breakfast?" She asked cheerfully. Gibbs pointed at the bread,  


"erm ... No?"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door. "Come on, you're in my town now. We’re going to one of my favourite places." 

They walked out of the front door and across the street to the Busy Bee Diner. They stood outside. It was obvious the diner hadn't changed much since it opened in 1963. He put his arm around her and smiled. "Okay, this is cool."  


"This place is like my second home. Come on, let me introduce you to everyone. These guys are the closest I have to family." 

She pushed open the door. A small bell rang. For a second, it reminded him of his Dad's store. He stood in the doorway and looked around. It was like stepping through a time warp. Formica tables and counter, red vinyl seating, orange pendant lights and varnished wooden floor. Maybe a bit faded around the edges but clean, welcoming and friendly. 

There were three ladies behind the counter and (he assumed) one regular customer who was currently asleep at a corner table. "That's Joseph," she explained. “He's been sleeping there since the 70s. He's like a lucky mascot or something." 

The ladies were all very pleased to see her. They weren't quite so sure about him. She didn't seem to notice. Excitedly, she introduced him. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Leroy Jethro Gibbs - the one I've been telling you about."  


He held up his hand in welcome, salute or possibly surrender - he hadn't decided which yet. "Gibbs. Please just call me Gibbs."  


"Why thank you for clearing that up for us, Leroy." A large lady of around 75 shuffled over from behind the counter where she had been preparing for the lunch rush. She shook his hand politely enough but her eyes were still deeply suspicious.  


"Jethro, this is Moira. She's worked here since the day The Bee opened. She's like a Mom to me." She hugged the old lady and left him there to be scrutinized and generally disapproved of. 

"So, you're the one whose been making our girl all smiley?" Questioned Moira her hands resting on her expansive hips. "As long as you treat her with respect you and me will get along just fine."  


"That is most definitely my intention, Ma'am." He replied respectfully.  


"Good.” She replied, satisfied for now. “Coffee?" She handed him a cup. "Black no sugar, right?" He nodded questioningly at her. She smiled. "I've been doing this a long time, Son. I know your type.”

Moira had yet to make her mind up completely about him. From her years observing cops across the counter, she thought they made lousy boyfriends, husbands, partners, whatever-they-call-them-these-days. At the same time though, this was the happiest she seen her girl in ... ever, so he couldn't be all bad, right? She made her excuses and went back to work in the kitchen where she could observe without being noticed. He pretended to be admiring the decor. The coffee was good.

  


A much younger, skinny girl with mousey blond hair wearing a waitress uniform approached him nervously. Ashlene was 17. Her world view was largely what she saw on the television and social media. Shyly, she asked Gibbs,  


"Are you a real Special Agent like Jack Bauer or something?"  


"Yes Ma'am, I really am only – it’s not as glamorous as you might think though."  


She giggled at being called ‘ma'am’ and blushed heavily. "Can I see your badge?" He took his wallet from his jacket pocket. She was dumbstruck by the badge.  


_"Kids!"_ He thought.  


"Gee, it's just like on the TV." She whispered in awe.

He reached into his wallet and took a couple of business cards from it. He handed them to Ashlene. "Can you put one of these in the contact book in the kitchen for me Ashlene?"  


"Sure, anything for you Agent Gibbs, sir.” She examined the cards, tracing the embossed NCIS crest with her finger. “What about the other card?" She asked.  


He put on as much charm as he thought she could handle. "Oh that one is especially for you Ashlene. You keep it safe for me, now."

She visibly swooned at him. "Yes, Special Agent Gibbs, I will do that. I will take real good care of it." 

Moira cleared her throat menacingly at him from behind his chair. She brought with her bacon, eggs, toast and pancakes for them. "Don't give that poor girl ideas. She ain't good with ideas. Ashlene go clear Table 4 and quit dreaming. Get your head out of the damned TV for once."

\----

They ate breakfast and chatted with the locals. He heard all about the third waitress Carla, and her attempts to match her daughter with a regular customer - Neither of whom seemed to appreciate her efforts apparently.

He found out Joe used to work on the docks until he got made redundant. He'd hang out at the diner to avoid his wife and mother-in-law with whom he shared an apartment. They were both gone now and he avoided the now empty rooms in much the same way.

There was the couple sharing coffee and pastries - clearly married - just not to each other. The many customers coming in for coffee on their way to work, who never needed to ask for their order as it was on the counter by the time they opened the door. And the homeless girl getting a hot meal in the kitchen while Carla sorted out clothes and toiletries from her locker. All manner of humanity was here. He got it. He fell in love with the place and the people. As they were leaving, folk bade them farewell. Moira called from the kitchen.  


"Hey Gibbs," she slammed a rolling pin down hard on the counter. The loud bang made customers look up. Even Old Joe woke up for a second. She aimed the kitchen implement at him to make her point. "You screw this up and your balls are mine ... on a plate." He nodded his understanding and left ... quickly. 

  


⌘⌘⌘  


  


"Hey Doc, you got a minute?"  


"Popeye! Long time no hear." Grace answered pointedly. She heard him roll his eyes heavenward and wonder if this was such a good idea.

"Er ... can I buy you a cup of coffee some time soon? At the diner?"  


That peeked her interest. The diner was the closest he came to her new offices ... or her old ones for that matter. He wanted to talk. That was cool and 'the diner' was just code so he didn't have to say it. "Sure. Is it urgent? Will tomorrow do? I can clear a space in my diary if you need me to?"  


"No, no. Tomorrow's fine. Can I buy you lunch?"  


"Of course. I never pass up a free one. See you there."  


\---

Gibbs stood as she reached the table.  


"Grace."  


"Popeye. So how've you been? It's been a couple of months."  


"Oh," he shrugged non-commitally. "You know ... busy."  


He was saved from any further interrogation by Rose coming over to the table with glasses of water and her order pad. They ordered lunch and coffee. Grace tried again - this part of the game was always the same.

She laced her fingers, smiled at him, leaned a little closer, "Just 'busy'? No time for anything else? A little fun, maybe? A little ... company? Things going good with Olive? I figure that's why I haven't seen you?"

She could have sworn he blushed. Just ever so slightly and he was trying to hide a smile – she was sure of it. He was making a big deal out of looking casual. He hadn't gotten any easier to read. "Well out with it Popeye, the salads here are great and all, but I haven't got all day?" She pushed.  


He sighed. He took a couple of fries from his plate. Took a sip of his coffee. Stared out of the window. Fiddled with the jar of sugar on the table ...

Grace slapped her hand loudly on the table and tapped her fingernails. She took her wallet from her purse and threw a couple a bills on the table. "Nice not talking to ya again and to think I'd actually missed this." she drawled. "I am also busy." She made to stand up. Gibbs grabbed her hand.  


"No, no Grace, please. I'm trying. I'm trying here, really." He pointed to her rabbit food/salad. "Finish your lunch."  


"I thought we'd got passed all this, Popeye. What's got you so knotted up? Is it a good thing or a bad thing?"  


He smiled, but still stared into his coffee. "Oh, it's a good thing ... I think ... but it could be a very bad thing if it doesn't work."  


"This sounds promising." Grace encouraged. "Is it Olive?" she asked.  


He nodded and sipped his coffee, deep in thought. Finally, after as much procrastination as he thought he could get away with, he took a breath and began.

"I've been married four times. And we've come to figure that that was three times too many."  


"I know," agreed Grace. "That's why I need a separate drawer for your file - it won't fit in with the others." He pulled a face.  


"Very funny, Grace."  


She shrugged, "Who said I was joking?" He ignored her and carried on.  


"I like this lady. I like her a lot."  


Grace gasped and asked excitedly, "Are you going to ask her to marry you?!"  


He looked shocked at the sound of the ‘M' word. He shook his head quickly. "No. No. It's too soon to think like that. She's been through some bad stuff in the past. I have to take this slow. I don't want to hurt her."

"And what about you?" asked Grace.  


"What about me?" he replied.  


"Well you've been through some bad stuff of your own. Plenty of it. You don't want to get hurt again either. Am I right?" He nodded in agreement.  


"I guess. As I've gotten older Grace, I've been thinking about the future. I don't want to grow old alone. I mean, I have a great family of sorts and I have friends. But at the end of the day, I close the front door and I'm alone. I don't want to be alone anymore, Grace."  


Grace nodded as he spoke letting his words sink slowly through her analytical filters. "And you think this lady could help with that but you're afraid?" He rallied against her last sentence.  


"I didn't say I was afraid,” he replied defensively.  


"Oh please!" Grace retorted. "Just look at your body language!!" She argued, nodding at him. He had pushed himself as far into the corner of the booth as he possibly could, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "Come on, stretch it out. Relax." It was her turn to point at the food on the table. "Have some lunch. Tell me, why you think this one is different to the others?"  


He rolled his shoulders to ease the sudden, unbidden tension in them and took a bite of his rapidly cooling burger. He thought as he chewed. "She's smart. She's funny. She bites her bottom lip when she's nervous - which is so damn cute. She ..."  


Grace shook her head. "That's all very sweet, Popeye but you're not answering my question. What makes her different?" Another pause.

"She says I make her feel safe ... I guess ... She makes me feel safe at the same time ... And accepted. All of me. Including Shannon. I can talk about her freely and it's okay - definitely not like the others. She met Shannon a couple of times. They seemed to like each other. I wonder if that helps?"  


Graces demeanour softened. She laced her fingers in front of her again. "Well well. It sounds like you've found a real companion there. You have a chance here, Gibbs."  


He looked up at her. He rarely heard the Doc use his name. "Yeah, I think I do and that's what I'm worried about." He pushed his plate away, preferring just the coffee. "She travels a lot in her work. Up and down the East Coast. Now she's opening in DC - and yes, I realise that has a lot to do with me. She stays in hotels a lot, but I'd like her to stay with me, when she's here. Maybe, turn DC into her base instead of Boston."

"So what you're saying is that you would like her to move in with you?" Summarised Grace.  


"Well ... yes." He shrugged. "I guess I am." He was starting to look uncomfortable again.  


"Well you don't have to sound so enthusiastic about it." Questioned Grace with her usual sarcasm.  


"It's just very different to the others. I ..." His mouth closed before any more words had a chance to escape. He was floundering. Grace knew all the signs. If she wasn’t careful this conversation would collapse into dramatic arm waving and flapping gums.  


"So what's wrong with that?" Grace encouraged. He sat awkwardly still. Shoulders hunched. He moved his head from side to side as if trying to shake the words free. His arms still folded across his chest defensively.  


"Well ... “  


“Yeah, c’mon Popeye, don’t give up now. You can do this,” she encouraged.  


“Well ... we're not married." He said quietly.

The Doc gave a short laugh - she couldn't help it. "Excuse me?! You're not married?! It's a very sweet sentiment, but honestly Gibbs, did the last 50 years pass you by? Since when does that matter any more?"  


"Well it matters to me,” he replied folding his arms defensively. She threw her fork into her salad.  


"Okay." It was time to start winding this up. Grace leaned across the table, closing the distance between them. Leaving him nowhere to run, so he had to listen to her. "You wanna know what I think? I think if you'd tried co-habiting in the past, you'd have paid a lot less alimony." She took his hands in hers. "Listen, I may be your therapist, but I am also your friend. As your friend I'm telling you Gibbs to go for it. You owe it to yourself to at least try. Consider it a trial run. You'll learn more about each other. You'll learn more about yourselves as well. Hopefully, your relationship will blossom and grow but if it doesn't? ... It's gotta be better to find out now and leave out the lawyer part, surely?" She raised her eyebrows questioningly at him then continued. "Is it a risk? Sure. Could you get hurt? Hell, yeah. But if it works? If it works ... You won't be alone anymore Gibbs. That's all any of us want in life and you deserve it just as much as anyone else." 

He sat quietly for a second or two letting her words sink in. Then he stood, bent and kissed her cheek. He called to the waitress, "Rose, put this on my tab, please?" and left the diner.  


"You're welcome," Grace shouted over her shoulder towards the retreating overcoat then reached for the uneaten plate of fries. There’s only so much lettuce one person can eat.

  


⌘⌘⌘  


  


“Oh Sweetheart, it's beautiful." She explored the new guest bedroom at Chez Gibbs. He nervously took a deep breath.

"Well, I thought when you were in town ..." He cleared his throat for the nth time "... instead of wasting money on a hotel ... you could ... You know ... Well, only if you wanted to ... you could ... stay with me ... maybe?"

He'd never considered "Living in Sin" before. His Mom would never have approved. "Maybe I'm more old-fashioned than I realised," he thought. He continued to babble at her.

"I mean, I stay with you in Boston right? ... And hotels in DC are really expensive ... And not as safe as they could be," he added for good measure "... And I have plenty of room here ... but it's only if you want to. I don't want to pressure you into anything ..." 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed. "Has Moira got you that scared?"  


"Well, partly ... You saw how she swung that rolling pin. I don't want to make her angry."  


She stopped, appearing to consider. "Okay, I will stay here on one condition."  


"Name it." He replied immediately.

She took his hand in her's and held his gaze with her own. "That when I'm not here, you'll sleep in the bed and not on the couch."  


"It's your room." He looked at the bed as if it was about to bite him.  


"No, Sweetheart. It's OUR room. Promise me?"

She continued to stare at him. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips. Did she realise how difficult that was for him? He sighed. "Okay, I promise. Well, I'll try anyway. It won't be the same without you though. Now let me show you what I made for you." 

He went through each piece of furniture he'd made in great detail - the type of wood, joints, hinges and grades of sand paper; tools, paint and varnishes and ... and ... and. He was proud of his efforts, and so he should be. Clearly, he was very passionate about his hobby. Right now though, she really needed him to be very passionate about something entirely different. It had been a long journey and he was all she had thought about on the flight down. Now, she really needed him to stop talking ... She undid her dress and let it fall to the floor. He looked down at her in her very expensive and barely visible underwear. He smiled, wrapped his arms around her and forgot all about the furniture. 

  


⌘⌘⌘  


  


She let herself in as usual carrying just her overnight bag. Gradually, a routine was developing. She had plenty of things here - no need for large amounts of luggage - SO much easier! She threw her keys on the dresser by the door. There was a note in Gibbs' handwriting.  


_"I'm not here. Call Bishop. She will explain. J "  
_

She called Bishop who was already on her way over. Bishop told her he would call her later ant that she wasn’t to discuss where he was, who he was with, what he was doing or how long he would be there. ... but apart from all that, anything else was fine ... !

Over tea, Ellie was more forthcoming than over the phone. "He's in Afghanistan with McGee and it'll take about a week." Ellie shrugged, non-commitally, "It's routine stuff really. Nothing to worry about. He'll be back before you know it.” An idea crossed Ellie's mind.“Hey, why don't we organise a Girls' Night while he's away? Movie, wine, chocolate, ice cream? ... It'll be fun! Gives you a chance to meet some new people too." Ellie smiled encouragingly.  


"Sure." She agreed. "New people. Should be good ... And I suddenly find my calendar free. How convenient. Let's go for it."  


Ellie clapped in delight. "All righty then, I'll give you a call tomorrow with details."

\---

"Hey you," Gibbs spoke softly into the phone aware of personnel behind him.  


"Hey back," she replied tentatively. She tried not to sound scared witless – like this was any usual phone call. Should he pick up milk from the mart on the way home?  


"You got my message then?"  


"Yeah, Ellie explained. Does this happen often?"  


"What?"  


"You just rushing off someplace?"  


"Well, sometimes. I don't always get a lot of notice or know where I'm going exactly."  


"It's okay, I understand."  


"It's the job," they said in unison. They both laughed. It eased the tension a little.

"You're safe though, right?" She asked, obviously scared.  


"Yes, you don't have to worry ... So, what are you going to do while I'm away?"  


"Well, not what I'd planned to do if you were here!"  


He turned to check there was no one behind him who may have heard. He cleared his throat self-consciously. "Oh we can catch up with that when I get home," he promised.  


They smiled at each other across the airwaves. The silence comforting between them. He broke the moment awkwardly.  


“So, you were going to tell me your plans?”  


"Oh yes, I was ... Ellie is organising a Girls' Night In."  


"Oh?" He sounded worried.  


"Yeah, you know the sort of thing?"  


"I do?"  


"A bunch of women together. A few bottles of wine. Some chocolate and a chick-flick with a hunky actor or two."  


"They coming over to ours?" He asked nervously, worried about his basement.  


"Don't be silly,"  


"Why, what's wrong with ours?"  


"Our TV is barely TV compatible let alone HD compatible and we need Daniel Craig in all his highly defined glory."  


"Oh, if you say so." He replied, not having a clue what she was talking about.  


There was that silence again. It was hard to talk intimately when you know your call is being monitored.  


"Well, I'll talk to you in a couple of days then. Have ... erm ... fun, I guess? ...” He hung up the phone and looked at it suspiciously.  


"Everything okay Boss?" Asked McGee.  


"Girls' Night In?"  


"Oh my," Said McGee, "Just be thankful you're here, Sir."

  


⌘⌘⌘  


  


They sat around Bishop's living room in their pyjamas like twelve year olds. Snacks, chocolate, movies, now empty pizza boxes and all. The only thing that really gave the game away were the empty wine bottles in the trash.  


It was the early hours of the morning. Yvonne (from Accounting) and Danielle (MTAC) were asleep head-to-toe on the couch. Breena and Claire (Munitions) had had to leave early because of babysitters and Delilah had spy stuff that couldn’t wait.  


Now there were just the three of them - herself, Abby and Ellie. The conversation was getting deep and meaningless the way it generally does in the small hours after a lot of wine.

"I bet Ducky was gorgeous when he was young." Ellie mused. "And with that British accent and charm? I bet he was fighting women off with a stick."  


"Oh, he was," replied Abby. "I've seen photos."  


"What? Of his stick?!" All three looked at each other and giggled girlishly.  
"Ssh, ssh. The others are sleeping. Ssh."

Abby waved a half eaten Caff-Pow lollipop at her. "Have you seen any pictures of Gibbs when he was young? Not that he's old now. You know ... it's just ... like when he was twenty five or something."  


"Oh sure." She replied "But you've got to remember it was the 80's. Everybody looked terrible in the 80's. I think he looks much better now. The grey hair really suits him."  


"He's your silver Fox," said Abby grinning and hugging her teddy bear - Burt the Hippo had been banned from Movie Night for excessive noise pollution. The giggly Goth returned the lollipop to her mouth and leaned in closer to her friend.  


"Tell us something cute about Gibbs."  


"There is no such thing." Stated Bishop categorically, waving a half empty wine glass in Abby's general direction.  


"Hey, that's not fair." Abby protested. "There is plenty cute about Gibbs."  


"Not when you're out in the field with him there isn't." Bishop countered. "Or in the office, or in the elevator, or stuck in a car for hours ..."  


"Oh, I'm with you with the car thing! Trapped on the freeway." she agreed nodding frantically at Bishop.  


"Hey, you're supposed to be on his side." Abby complained, slapping her playfully on the shoulder. "You're going out with him after all."  


"Yeah, but I'm not dating his car!" They all laughed. Abby tried again.  


"So, tell us something cute." 

She thought for a minute. "Well, he cleans up real nice. I mean, you've both seen him in a dinner suit, right?"  


"Yeah. I gotta admit that was a major, major surprise." Admitted Ellie. "But tell us something we don't know."  


"I like his old fashioned manners. He opens the door for you. He holds the chair for you. Helps you with your coat. He stands when I leave the table - he even does it at home! I like that. It shows respect."  


"Ahh," went the other two in unison.  


"And I like how safe I feel in his arms. I mean, you’ve both had hugs from him right?" They nodded.  


"You just feel like nothing will ever hurt you while you're there inside that circle. You know?" The others nodded again in agreement. She smiled, "And when he kisses you, you stay KISSED!!"  


"Oh my God, yes! " exclaimed Abby. The others both looked at her with raised eyebrows. Abby looked back at them in innocent confusion.  


"What?"  


"D'you want to explain that, " asked Bishop nodding towards their companion. "Quickly."  


"Oh, well, yeah, y'know when he kisses me on the cheek when I've found the poison, or identified the killer, or baked cookies? When he kisses me on the cheek I'll feel it there for the rest of the day. Sometimes 'til the next time. That's what I meant." She turned the conversation back to what they were really after . ..

"Anyway, we know all that too!" Abby pleaded. "Come on, there must be something cute he does that we don't know."  


"Well there's ... " They looked at her wide eyed and expectant. "Oh, I don't know if I should ... "  


"You should, you should," the two women encouraged whilst re-filling her glass.  


"Well, there is this one thing that I think is unbelievably ..."  


"What? What?" They both asked in unison.  


"Oh I really don't know ..." She wailed, torn. "It's kinda ... you know ..."  


"No, what?" Asked Bishop.  


Abby grinned broadly. "I know ... It's naughty, isn't it?"  


"No ... Well kinda ...Well ... I don't know..."  


"Well tell us what it is and then we'll decide if it's naughty." Suggested Abby. They nodded eagerly at her.  


"All right, but you have to promise me, promise on everything that's holy, that he will never, never find out that I told you. Ever."

The other two were getting excited. What on Earth could it be? Did the Great and Mighty Gibbs have a kink?  


"We promise," said Ellie crossing her heart. "I'm a Government agent. I'm trained to keep secrets."  


"Our lips are sealed." Added Abbs as she mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key. They all huddled together. Quietly, she said,  


"He says thank you."  


Abby and Bishop sat up and looked at each other, confused. They shook their heads not understanding.  


"After we've ... you know ... afterwards ... He says thank you. He kisses me very gently ... there," (her eyes dropped to her lap for a second), "and then he says thank you."

There was complete silence. Abby's mouth fell open in astonishment. The lollipop fell to the floor. They looked at each other for a moment. Ellie began,  


"You're right. That is cute. Very, very cute in fact. I am deeply, deeply jealous at how cute that is."  


"That's just adorable." Squealed Abbs.  


"Ssh!" Went the others. Abbs lowered her voice.  


"I knew he wouldn't let me down. I knew it - A gentleman, even after sex. I told you he was really a sweetheart." She hugged her teddy bear severely.  


"But you have to promise never, EVER to tell ANYone."  


"Oh we promise, scout's honour. Never." The other women agreed.

  


⌘⌘⌘  


  


Some time after his return from the Middle East, Gibbs stood in the queue for his morning beverage. Suddenly, a hand reached towards him and handed him a coffee cup. It was Veronica (Somebody, but he couldn't remember what) from (Some other department, but he couldn't remember where). He looked surprised.  


"I saw you behind me in the queue Agent Gibbs, so I thought I'd get yours while I was here." She explained. He smiled at her and reached into his pocket for some change. She shook her head.  


"Oh, that's quite all right, Sir. Consider it my good deed for the day."  


He smiled at her again and said, "Why, that's very kind of you, Veronica. Thank you."  


She blushed heavily and then smiled shyly back at him.  


"Oh no, the pleasure's all mine, Agent Gibbs."

\---

"Gibbs made Pamela cry ... AGAIN! I was just trying to make her feel better." Pleaded Bishop. "I didn't know she knew Sylvia in Finance."  


"They're best friends! They've known each other since high school." Shouted Abby.  


"But I didn't know that!"  


"Do you realise what you've done? Soon EVERYONE is going to know. Telling Sylvia anything is like taking out an ad in the Washington Post!" Abby was pacing anxiously.

"He's gonna figure it out. And then we are both dead. He'll probably bury us in his basement."  


"Oh he wouldn't hurt you," Bishop reassured her. "He loves you. You're the favourite. You're like a daughter to him."  


"Yeah, but you're the Newb. You're gonna be writing parking tickets on some base in Alaska."  


"Well maybe we should just come clean and tell him?" Suggested Bishop.  


"Are you CR-AZY!??! Abby was shouting again.  


"Tell me what, Abbs?", Gibbs walked into the lab Caff-Pow! in hand. They both jumped like naughty school kids - hands firmly in cookie jar.  


They looked at each other in panic. "Erm ... about ... What to make for the July 4th barbecue." Abby babbled in desperation.  


"Gosh, is she thinking about that already?" Gibbs asked nervously. _Was it really that important?_  


"Well it's only a few months away. Aren't you thinking about it too?" Ellie chipped in.  


He shook his head, confused. "About Barbecue?"  


"Independence Day. A very significant day in our country's history." Ellie replied.  


He shrugged, bemused. "Not really. It's all got kinda crazy around here for the moment, today included." He replied feeling decidedly awkward.  


He wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about but he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with what they were talking about. Besides, Independence Day was months away and required no more effort than a trunk full of steaks and several cases of beer which he provided every year. He shrugged to himself. What was the big deal?  


"Well maybe you should sit down and chat about it some night together," Ellie suggested. "It would be something nice to think about instead of work all the time."  


He looked very uncomfortable. "Maybe you guys would be better at that. I never really got involved with planning any of them in the past." He shrugged. "I'd be happy just getting the bus down to Beltway, if it's easier."

Abby stamped her foot. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs how can you say that?!" She yelled, poking an accusing finger at him. "That woman worships you. She's trying to organise a proper 4th July for you and your friends and that does not include a bus trip to anywhere! Now leave this lab immediately and don't come back until you've given some serious thought to what you just said ... or the DNA results come back whichever is first." She pointed at the door dramatically and stamped her foot again for further emphasis.  


He looked dumbfounded. He looked from Ellie to Abby in confusion. _What had he said? Was it really that bad?_ Abby was still pointing at the door. He stared at the finger for a moment longer then turned on his heal and left, his bewilderment trailing behind him like a lost puppy.  


"D'you think he suspects anything?" Ellie hissed.  


"No," Abbs said with some confidence. "I just gave him something else to focus on."

\---

He headed for the elevator completely stunned. "What the hell just happened?" A woman already inside the car held the door for him.  


****

"Thank you," he said as he got on board. He turned and pushed the button for MTAC - his thoughts a million miles away.  


Behind him, the woman nearly fainted.


	5. Shade

****

**Chapter Five - Shade**

The elevator door 'pinged' as it opened. Nobody paid much attention. It was only when they heard Chris from the Main Desk shouting did anybody look up. "Ma'am? Ma'am you're not allowed up here without a pass and an escort. Ma'am!"  


"I don't need one. I won't be here long enough."

Gibbs stood at the sound of her voice. She was clearly very agitated. He felt panic rising within him. What the hell was wrong? They met each other half way across the Bullpen. She stood facing him and before he had a chance to ask, she slapped him across the face - hard.

She held up a buff coloured folder. "What the hell is this?"  


"Where did you get that?" He asked, rubbing his jaw.  


"I found it in the basement. I went to collect the dishes from your little Boys' Night In with Tobias last night. It was on your work bench."

He tried to take the file from her. She snatched it quickly away from him. He pointed at it. "You shouldn't be looking at that."  


"It has my name on it." Her voice was rapidly increasing in volume. "Why are you spying on me Jethro?" 

He grabbed her elbow and tried to pull her towards the Conference Room. "Come on, we don't have to do this here."

She shrugged out of his grasp and got even louder, "Get your hands off me. We are doing this right here. I'm not going anywhere with you." Every eye in the room was suddenly staring in their direction.  


"Okay. Okay." He held his hands out in submission. "I'll try to explain if you'll just calm down a little." He grabbed a spare chair and set it next to his desk. He sat down at his desk, he pointed at it in invitation. She sat reluctantly and folded her arms.

"Well?"

Gibbs sighed and closed his eyes for a second. "It's all just a misunderstanding.” He spoke slowly almost as to a child. He didn’t want to get anything wrong - that could start the yelling again. “A couple of weeks ago, when you were in Philly and you lost your phone, remember? Well, I couldn't get hold of you for days and I got really worried something had happened to you. So I asked Tobias if he had anyone in the area that could check it out - make sure you were okay. The guy in Philly got the wrong idea and logged a Person of Interest bulletin. It went right along the East Coast. I was furious. Tobias pulled it as soon as he realised what had happened - It's quite funny when you think about it," he added lamely.

She glared at him completely unamused. He could feel the Squad Room staring at the back of his head. Her attention returned to the file. She flicked through it, shaking her head.  


"I can't have this, Jethro." She fumed. "I have to be able to trust you."  


"You can trust me."

She stood and paced around the Bullpen, concentrating instead on the contents of the file.  


"There are photographs in here and phone logs. There are things about my staff and my friends. What? Do you think I have a boyfriend in every port? Is that it?" She picked up a photograph which showed her kissing the cheek of a man in his fifties. "This is my accountant. He's also one of my oldest friends. We've known each other since college and he’s gay."  


"I know," Gibbs replied.  


_"Oh, that was the wrong answer!" _Cringed DiNozzo.__

____

She jumped right on it."You know, do you? How do you know? You've never met him."  


____

He pointed at the file. "It's all in there."  


____

_"The man is hanging himself." _Winced McGee as she continued to flick through the file and shake her head in disbelief.  
__

______ _ _

"I can't have this Jethro." Her voice was rising again. "I WON'T have this."  


______ _ _

He shrugged and failed once more to take the file from her. "It's nothing to be concerned about." He reiterated. "It was just a misunderstanding.” He shrugged again, feeling way out of control. This really wasn’t going well. “It's nothing, really." 

______ _ _

"Oh, it's nothing? Spying on me is nothing? Investigating my friends is nothing? My life and my work are all nothing?”  


______ _ _

“That’s a bit over dramatic don’t you think?” he replied.  


______ _ _

_"Did he really just say that?" _DiNozzo was hoping he'd miss heard. The look on McGee’s face told him otherwise.  
__

________ _ _ _ _

She ignored Gibbs’ question and continued. “I was your girlfriend Jethro. I thought what we had was important but apparently not. I was mistaken and all this,” She held up the file, “all of this is nothing. So this then, this will also be nothing."

________ _ _ _ _

She turned on her heel. He motioned to follow her. She turned back to face him. Her expression was set firm, her face red with anger. She raised a hand."Don't even think about it! I will not be treated in this way. I will not be researched and investigated like some common criminal." She looked down at the floor sadly. Her voice cracked very slightly. "I'm done." She said quietly.  


________ _ _ _ _

She turned and strode back into the elevator. As she passed Chris she threw the file at him. Sheets of paper and photographs rained down across half the Bullpen. “Put that in your report,” she yelled over her shoulder as the elevator doors closed behind her.  


\---  


The Squad Room was silent. A lone, unattended photocopier whirred and clicked in a far off corner. Everyone was looking at Gibbs. Nobody knew what to do.  


________ _ _ _ _

He closed his eyes for a second. _What had just happened?_ When he opened them again everyone was finding something of vital national importance to do with a stapler – anything to avoid making eye contact. The muscles in his jaw worked frantically to keep his face expressionless. He calmly climbed the stairs to Vance's office. 

________ _ _ _ _

"WAS his girlfriend? DONE? Did she say 'done’? Did he just get dumped? In front of everybody?" McGee rambled.  


________ _ _ _ _

Bishop sat at her desk almost in tears. DiNozzo was picking up the pages of the file with Chris. "Yeah, he just got dumped, Tim. In front of everybody." He was staring at the floor, remembering his own heartbreaks. "Hell, we've all been there - maybe not quite so publicly but ...” 

________ _ _ _ _

They heard footsteps on the stairs. Gibbs came jogging down.  


________ _ _ _ _

"You okay boss?" DiNozzo asked.  


________ _ _ _ _

"No."  


________ _ _ _ _

"D'you want to talk about it?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"No." He unlocked his file cabinet. Reaching into the top drawer he picked up his gun, his creds and his car keys. "I'm going home." He said flatly.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Sure thing Boss. We'll mind the store for you." 

________ _ _ _ _

  


☆☆☆

  


________ _ _ _ _

"He doesn't answer my texts or emails," Abby wailed.  


________ _ _ _ _

"He doesn't answer anybody's texts or emails," argued DiNozzo. He reached for his sandwich - he'd been looking forward to it all morning.  


________ _ _ _ _

"He won't answer my calls either and he always, always answers my calls no matter what time of day or night." 

________ _ _ _ _

Abby's eyes were red from crying. Gibbs was hurt and she needed to make sure he was okay. She owed him too much to abandon him now.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Why don't you just go over there? DiNozzo suggested. _Yep, the pastrami and the Swiss and the turkey and the pickles on the ...oh, come to Papa._  


________ _ _ _ _

“I'm afraid of what I might find. I don't think I can do this on my own. Come with me. Please Tony? I’m scared. What if he's ... You know?  


________ _ _ _ _

_Okay, so now the conversation had taken a more serious tone_ "D'you think he would?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"I don't know - it was getting pretty serious this time."  


________ _ _ _ _

"Yeah, but he's been dumped lots of times. He should be pretty used to it by now!"  


________ _ _ _ _

Abby hit him across the shoulder. "Be serious for once, DiNozzo. HE'S NOT ANSWERING MY CALLS. HE'S NEVER, EVER DONE THAT BEFORE AND I'M SCARED!!"  


________ _ _ _ _

Tony sighed and bid farewell to his beloved sandwich. He knew it would not be there when he got back. “All right, all right. I’ll get my jacket .... "  


\---  


They found Gibbs in the basement (where else?). He was lying face down on the floor under his boat. Several empty bottles lay around him. Just to be safe, Tony checked for a pulse. As he suspected their friend was out cold in a drunken stupor.

________ _ _ _ _

"Good, he's just bombed." He whispered, relieved.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Drunk as a skunk, huh?" Abby asked.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I think that'd be insulting to skunks actually Abbs." He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Okay, Abbs. You're in charge of VERY strong coffee and food. He must have something to eat around here."  


________ _ _ _ _

"What are you going to do? She asked.  


________ _ _ _ _

“Me?” He gave a long suffering sigh. “Oh, I get the good job ...” 

________ _ _ _ _

He grabbed Gibbs under the arms and pulled him to his feet. “Come on Gibbs, it's time for a shower."  


________ _ _ _ _

"Why? No point." Mumbled their valiant leader. "Never leaving here again. Safer that way. Had enough. Leave me alone McNonzzo."  


________ _ _ _ _

"Nope," replied DiNozzo. "Not gonna happen, Boss. Time for you to re-join the land of the living. You have stuff to do. Important stuff. Stuff that requires guile and wits and breath with less bourbon in it." He grunted as he half carried, half dragged his friend up the stairs and towards the bath room. "You need to lay off the trips to Beltway with Fornell for a while, Sir!" He complained.  


________ _ _ _ _

He dumped Gibbs unceremoniously into the shower, fully clothed. The water was set on full flow and cold. A string of expletives shot from behind the curtain. "Yeah, I love you too Boss. Now hurry up will ya, we need you sober." Said Tony, throwing the soap at him.  


\---  


Gibbs sat at the dining table miserably pushing bits of scrambled egg around a plate. Abby sat opposite, wide eyed with anxiety.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Did you call her?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"She doesn't answer"  


________ _ _ _ _

"How often did you call her?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"Some."  


________ _ _ _ _

"Voicemail?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"Nope,"  


________ _ _ _ _

"Why not?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"Because she won't pick it up. I know her. I know how this is going to play. It's over. It's ... done." He shrugged dejectedly and went back to egg shuffling. 

________ _ _ _ _

"Well, we don't think so," argued Abby. "Remember the Rules, Gibbs. Rule Number 5 - Do not waste good. And you guys are too good to let this get in the way."  


________ _ _ _ _

"I really don't think she'd agree with you right now, Abbs."  


________ _ _ _ _

DiNozzo joined them at the table having retrieved his jacket from the basement. "Well we need you to go and find out for us, Sir. We can’t allow you to leave it like this. It’s hurting all of us, seeing this happen." He bit his tongue to stop himself from adding “again.” He reached into his jacket pocket and handed Gibbs an envelope.  


________ _ _ _ _

"What's this?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"We all pitched in," explained Abby. "It's an open ticket to Boston. You can go when you like and come back when you like. We need you to put this right Gibbs. For all of us but mostly for you. She makes you happy."  


________ _ _ _ _

He scoffed at the last part. "So this is how happy feels?” He turned the envelope around in his hands. He opened it, looked at the tickets and then shoved them back into the envelope."I can't take this, guys," he said, choked by his friends' generosity.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Yes, yes you can and you must," countered Abby, holding on to his hands. "We want you to be happy, Gibbs. You have to take this chance. If you do nothing, then she's gone for good. If you go after her, you stand a chance. If it doesn't work, you can at least say you tried." 

________ _ _ _ _

  


☆☆☆  


  


________ _ _ _ _

Boston was much colder than DC. It had already snowed. He parked the rental car outside her house. After getting no answer to his knock, he turned, walked down the front steps and crossed the street to The Bee. The three women on the afternoon shift were surprised to see him. Moira took one look at him and said, "What exactly did you do?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"What makes you think it was me?" He countered.  


________ _ _ _ _

"You're here ain'tcha?"

________ _ _ _ _

He looked down at the floor; put his hands in his pockets defensively. "I did something stupid." He said quietly.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Honey, we already know that!" Moira chimed.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I'm not talking about it. I just want some coffee. Then I'm going to wait here until she gets home." 

________ _ _ _ _

He sat at a table by the window, his back to the rest of the diner. He had a clear view of her door. He had coffee. He had patience. He needed nothing else - least of all, conversation.  


\---  


"Hey Gibbs, we gotta close now Hun." Moira said softly. "Go back to your hotel and try again tomorrow huh?" He stood and stretched his back out a little. His knee bothered him from being in one position for so long. He gave a resigned sigh. He turned his overcoat collar up, shoved his hands in his pockets and went out into the cold.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I guess so. Goodnight, Moira."  


________ _ _ _ _

"Goodnight, Gibbs." 

________ _ _ _ _

He crossed the street, a bitter wind cutting through him. He checked his notes for his hotel address. "To Hell with that," he thought. "Too damn far." He pulled a sleeping bag from his duffle, and climbed into the back of the car. He wasn't going anywhere.  


\---  


After his third night in the car he thought his spine would never forgive him and he would never be warm again. The steaming coffee mug in his hands made no difference. The Busy Bee busied around him. Breakfast was over, the ladies cleared up and tidied up and readied themselves for the lunchtime rush. They had quickly gotten used to "Joe#2" alone at the table by the window. He sat, open to close, staring at the front door across the street. Not talking, not eating, just watching. The morning girls talked about him in the back room.

________ _ _ _ _

"Ain't it romantic?" Sighed Ashlene, as she rinsed the morning dishes. "It's so sweet when old people fall in love." The other two ladies (both middle aged) stared at the 17 year old in dismay. Diyanne nodded towards Gibbs.  


________ _ _ _ _

"That ain't love, that's desperation. He's in BIG trouble, whatever it is." 

________ _ _ _ _

Suddenly, Gibbs stood. He hovered next to the table trying to decide what to do. With a look of sudden determination, he finished his coffee in one gulp and shrugged on his overcoat.  


________ _ _ _ _

A man in work overalls pushed open the door. He brushed snow from his hat and shoulders and headed towards the seats at the counter. The door stuck open - A blast of winter air filled the diner. A final invitation for Gibbs to leave. He closed the door behind him, and hurriedly crossed the street. 

________ _ _ _ _

She paid no heed to the blaring car horns and flashing headlights from the road. The taxi driver helped get her suitcase from the trunk. She rummaged through an oversized purse for her apartment keys, pointedly ignoring the house key that hung on the chain with them. Then she turned around to wave thanks as the cab pulled away.  


________ _ _ _ _

Gibbs stood at the bottom of the steps looking up at her. He was soaked from the snow and hunched over in his coat from the cold. Water dripped from his hair and nose. It's icy temperature made him shiver.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Please, just stay where you are," he implored. He climbed one step, gingerly.  


________ _ _ _ _

"What are you doing here?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"I just want to talk to you." He climbed a second step. Their eyes locked. "I couldn't leave it the way it was." The third step. "Well, actually, our friends wouldn't let me leave it ..." He smiled wryly as he reached the fourth. He stood miserably before her shivering slightly. The sleet and snow swirled about them as cars drove passed.  


________ _ _ _ _

"You look like shit." She observed.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I didn't know when you were coming home, so I just waited."  


________ _ _ _ _

"How long have you been here?"

________ _ _ _ _

It took him a while to work it out. His brain felt like sludge. The time had dragged so slowly. "Since Tuesday," he eventually replied.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Four days? You've been here for four days? Where have you been staying?" He waved vaguely across the street.  


________ _ _ _ _

"At the diner, or there." He said, pointing at the car. He took the final step up. They stood close together. The emotion between them was raw and powerful. It made speech difficult. He cleared his throat. Finally, he leaned forward, held her face in both hands and kissed her. She did not respond.  


________ _ _ _ _

He took half a step back, looked at her beseechingly. He leaned in and desperately kissed her again. This time there was a glimmer of response. He placed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. His hands ached to touch her. Eventually, she moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheek, her ear. "I’ve missed you, so much." He whispered.

________ _ _ _ _

She looked deeply into his eyes. "You hurt me."  


________ _ _ _ _

"I know," His eyes cast down, he nodded in acknowledgement.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Don't ever do it again." She whispered her voice choked with emotion.  


________ _ _ _ _

"No, Ma'am." They kissed again both fighting back tears. He wrapped her in his arms determined to never let her go.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Please forgive me," he whispered.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Shut up and help me get this case through the damned door." Her only reply.

\---

Across the street in The Busy Bee, the ladies were watching a scene from their very own soap opera unfold.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Miss, can I have some coffee please?" the workman at the counter asked.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Yes, in one moment Sir," Diyanne answered.  


________ _ _ _ _

"It _was_ her in the taxi. I told you it was," said Ashlene.  


________ _ _ _ _

"What're they doing now," shouted Rita from the kitchen.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Miss? My coffee?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"In a minute. ... Rita, get here quick, he's going to kiss her." Rita came rushing out of the kitchen drying her hands on her apron.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Can I get that coffee now?" The guy said. Rita grabbed the coffee pot out of Diyanne's hand and put it on the counter next to him.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Here ya go," she said. "Help yourself."  


________ _ _ _ _

"Quick, you'll miss it." When Gibbs kissed her the first time, Rita was not impressed.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Oh, he's going to have to do A LOT better than that. Look at the way she's standing. She is so pissed with him."  


________ _ _ _ _

"Yeah, I wonder what it's all about."  


________ _ _ _ _

"Oh now that's much better! Now he stands a chance. See how she's holding on to him?" All three women 'ooh'-ed and 'aah'-ed. Diyanne wiped away a tear as they watched the couple embrace and go into the house together.  


________ _ _ _ _

"It's just like on the TV," Ashlene chirped. 

________ _ _ _ _

The workman gave up trying to order and helped himself to a piece of pie from the counter.

________ _ _ _ _

  


☆☆☆  


  


________ _ _ _ _

She took his coat and handed him a towel. Then she sat him down in the big leather armchair and wrapped him in a blanket. "Here, get warm."  


________ _ _ _ _

He sat, shivering. She turned on the heater, then made them some coffee. They chatted about everyday things while she unpacked her suitcase - yes the trip was uneventful; no, she didn't know when she would go back; yes it was kind of the team to buy his ticket; no he hadn't called them yet.  


________ _ _ _ _

The conversation drifted off. An awkward silence descended once more around them. He was sullen, sitting in the chair staring into his coffee cup. She walked over to him and knelt down, resting her arms on his lap. "Come on,"  


________ _ _ _ _

"What?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"Out with it - You obviously have something to say, so say it." She continued to stare at him. It was now or never.  


________ _ _ _ _

He wrestled with his inner demons. Despite Grace's best efforts, sharing his feelings still did not come naturally. Emotions made him vulnerable and that scared him more than a caffeine free/vegetarian diet. But, if he couldn't share vulnerability with her, what chance did he have? He sighed. He took the risk.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I thought I'd lost you for sure and all because of something stupid that got out of hand." He paused, then sighed as he decided to give something of himself away. "When my last three marriages broke up, it was almost a relief. I didn't have to bother with the whole emotional juggling act anymore - Relationships are hard and I'm not real good at them. I could just get on with being by myself and doing the job. It’s what I know. It's a lot simpler that way. But when you left ... " He stopped again, searching for the right words.

________ _ _ _ _

When you left, there was nothing. No 'myself'. No 'getting on'. Just a ... a ... vacuum. I couldn't think. I couldn't eat. I couldn't work - not even on the boat. I just felt lifeless and alone AGAIN. All I could do was drink a lot of bourbon - that part was easy."

________ _ _ _ _

She leaned up towards him. "We were both stupid. I should have just asked you about the file instead of drawing my own conclusions. I assumed the worst of you. I am so very s---" He put his finger to her lips to stop her speaking.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I have a rule. Number 6 - NEVER apologise to anyone, least of all me. It's a sign of weakness and you are anything but weak." He smiled thinking back to their confrontation and shook his head incredulously. "My God, when you came struttin' across the Squad Room, I knew I was in a whole heap of trouble." He looked her in the eye. "You know they could have shot you for barging through Security like that?"  


________ _ _ _ _

"I think Chris is more afraid of me than he is of you." She smiled self-consciously.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I think everybody's more afraid of you," he replied. "Maybe I need some practice. I have a reputation to maintain." He shivered involuntarily again and sneezed. He looked pale and thoroughly exhausted. He wrapped the blanket tighter around him and leaned back in the chair.  


________ _ _ _ _

She took his hand and held it to her cheek. Her eyes closed as she relished the touch of his skin on hers. She turned her head and kissed his palm. Then took his face in her hands and kissed him lightly on the mouth. As she pulled away from the kiss she saw his eyes remained closed, his expression so sad.  


________ _ _ _ _

"How could I have been .... " He started to say before her mouth pressed tenderly against his once more.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Enough now," she whispered, "or we'll just be going in circles all night." He shivered again.

________ _ _ _ _

She stood. "That's it, let's get you warm. Come on, let's get these wet clothes off you. You're going to catch your death."  


________ _ _ _ _

She helped him undress and climb into bed. She threw an extra quilt over him, changed into a nightshirt and climbed in next to him. She held him tightly to her trying to warm his body with her own. They lay in each other's arms each relishing the feel of the other. Emotion welled up inside her until she thought she would choke. She sat up, leaning on one elbow.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I've missed you, Jethro." She exclaimed breaking the silence. She ran her fingers through his hair as she spoke. "Not just the sex. I've missed everything about you - The way you only say half a sentence. The way you throw your house keys at the dresser. How you eat breakfast cereal at midnight. Even your snoring."  


________ _ _ _ _

"I do not snore," he protested.  


________ _ _ _ _

"Oh you do," she corrected emphatically. "And I've missed every decibel." 

________ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _

  
****

***WARNING: EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT***

________ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _

They kissed tentatively at first. The kiss gradually gaining in passion. A long, lingering kiss both asking for and offering forgiveness. He rolled her beneath him and slid easily inside her. It felt comforting and right. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, capturing him, holding him to her.  


________ _ _ _ _

The kiss deepened still further. He cradled her head in his hands pinning her beneath him as their bodies began their now familiar dance. The emotion between them was almost overwhelming. His fingers ached when he ran them across her body. His whole being yearning for her. He could not bear the slightest distance between them. They folded together as one soul that had been torn apart for too long. Every touch, every sigh, every kiss saying "I love you." more powerfully than any words.

________ _ _ _ _

It was her turn to roll them. She lay straddled across him still trying to keep him warm. She kissed his chest and neck before returning to his mouth. She was hypersensitive to his touch. She shivered as his fingers made their way down her spine. Goose bumped rising along their path.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I missed you so much. I thought you were gone for good."  


________ _ _ _ _

"I'm not going to let that happen." Gibbs replied, determined to make it so. She bent towards him as their lips crushed together once more.  


________ _ _ _ _

She sat up and placed her hands on his chest. She rocked back and forth across his hips. Gibbs held onto her encouraging her faster. His only focus the woman above him. She fell forward and laced her fingers through his. Her hips danced faster against him. She began the noises he loved so much. They told him she was close. He encouraged her on.  


________ _ _ _ _

"That's it. Take it. Take all of me. Take me with you when you come. I want to go with you."  


________ _ _ _ _

She plunged down urgently upon him. Her whole body pulsed and shook into throws of orgasm. She cried out, gripping him tightly as she arched her body back, her hips grinding onto his. Her body tightened and pulsed around him. It was all the encouragement he needed. He cried out as his world curled away in a rush of pleasure. He grabbed her waist and pushed her onto him forcing himself high inside her.  


________ _ _ _ _

She fell forward in exhaustion, gasping for air. Gibbs held her quivering body tightly to him. His senses overloaded by the woman astride him - a rush of breath against his neck; her heartbeat pounding against his chest. Her fingers in his hair. His arms encircling her tightly as she gradually surfaced through the haze.

________ _ _ _ _

She slid her body down his until her head rested on his chest. It felt familiar, comforting. His heart rate gradually settling, Gibbs breathed out a long contented sigh and kissed the top of her head. She held him tighter as if he would suddenly disappear. Then without warning she burst into tears. Great wracking, uncontrollable sobs. He cradled her to him - not daring to let anymore of his feelings out should they engulf him completely. They clung to each other until the world forced its way back in. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffed a final sob inwards and rolled over to spoon into him. Gibbs reached for the bed covers and made them both comfortable. They began to doze. He leaned into her ear,  


________ _ _ _ _

"I love you." He whispered softly.  


________ _ _ _ _

"I love you too," she replied without hesitation.

________ _ _ _ _


	6. Growth

****

**Chapter Six – Growth**

  


The following morning Gibbs awoke feeling very strange. He had an almighty headache. His throat was sore and every joint in his body hurt. "What is this?" He asked, distraught.  


"You have the flu, Darling - hardly surprising considering the week you’ve had. Have you never had the flu before?"  


"No, never." He answered. His head was thumping. "I don't like it. What do I do?"  


"Well, you take painkillers, drink orange juice and stay in bed. Then you lie there feeling sorry for yourself until it goes away." 

She padded into the bathroom, came back with a thermometer and shoved it in his mouth. Reading it, she pulled a face. "102. You are officially sick, My Love."  


"But we have to go back to DC."  


She shook her head, emphatically. "There isn’t an airline in the land that will let you anywhere near a boarding gate in that state."  


"Couldn't you drive me?”  


"To DC? Are you crazy? Besides I just got back. I want to stay here a while. Face it, Gunny, you're not going anywhere."  


He struggled to sit up. "I gotta call DiNozzo - let him know I'll be in tomorrow." The room began to spin around him nauseatingly as he tried and failed to untangle himself from the covers. Defeated, he slumped back down on the bed. "Or maybe the next day." He surrendered to the pillow, closed his eyes and groaned pitifully as he pulled the covers up under his chin.  


She tucked the bed clothes around him maternally and stroked his hair. "Go on. Get some rest. I've got plenty I can do here. I’ll go out later and get some soup from Moira. And I'll call Tony and let him know you won't be in."  


\---  


"Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, how may I be of assistance?" Tony listened intently for a moment, the grin across his face getting wider the longer the conversation continued. He ³waved frantically at Bishop, pointing at the phone and giving a thumbs up. She passed the silent message on to McGee. They both strained to hear Tony's side of the conversation. McGee messaged the lab. By the end of the conversation, the whole building would have a Sit. Rep. on their esteemed leader's love life.  


"Hey! So how're ya doing?" Tony was trying to sound casual as he spoke. She could almost hear him lean back in his chair and rest his feet on the desk. Their cunning plan had worked. Okay, Abby's cunning plan had worked.  


He listened to the now familiar Upper Boston accent for a second longer and began to look concerned. He sat up straight in his chair. "I'm sorry, what d'you mean he's sick? The Boss is never sick - unless you count bullet wounds, knife wounds, blunt force trauma, drowning and bomb blasts. Flu you say? The Boss has never had the flu? Germs don't like him ..." He paused for a moment before asking with a nervous laugh,  


"Have you broken the Boss? ... Saddam Hussain tried to break the Boss. He failed. Bin Laden had a go too. He couldn't do it either. Many others have tried and also failed. So, what's your secret? ... I gotta know ... What was his kryptonite?"  


"Sleeping in a car for three nights in the snow. I was in Philadelphia."  


"Yep, that'll do it. Why didn't he just get a hotel?"  


"Perhaps you can ask him in a few days when he's feeling better. He thinks he's letting you guys down by being sick. I almost had to tie him to the bed to stop him from going back to work."  


DiNozzo couldn’t resist, "Did he enjoy the bed tying part?" He asked with a smirk.  


"What?"  


"Nothing, nothing - just off on a tangent. Will you be coming back to DC with him?"  


She rolled her eyes in a very Gibbsian manner. "Why, yes Tony, I will. It seems I have a lot of people to thank."  


"Oh, you don't have to thank anyone. We just couldn't see a good thing wasted. Gibbs calls it Rule #5."  


"Yes, I know."  


"And besides, he's a lot easier to work with when you're in town - no overtime!" They both laughed. Then Tony suddenly gasped in shock. He cringed and quickly made his excuses, throwing the receiver back on its cradle as if it was suddenly contagious. 

"What was that last bit about?" Asked McGee.  


"I think he just ruined everything again!" Tony whispered dramatically.  


"What? That soon?! How?"  


"He just called her Shannon!"  


\---  


He was sleeping and had called Shannon's name as he dreamt. It was to be expected she supposed. And he couldn't help his dreams. She realised not for the first time, that she would have to accept that a piece of him (perhaps the biggest piece) would always belong to his first wife. There was nothing she could do about it. It was part of him. It was what made Gibbs, Gibbs. There was no point trying to compete. That way, lay only madness. 

☆☆☆  


Gibbs and McGee walked amicably through the front door. She looked up in surprise, still chewing. "Hey! You're home early. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow. And I was just finishing my 'comfort' dinner."  


"Comfort dinner? Asked McGee, confused.  


"Spaghetti sauce with extra cheese and a whole pack of double stuffed Oreos – not in the same dish though." Gibbs informed him. McGee nodded sagely as if he understood completely when in reality, he was none the wiser. She waved an almost empty Oreo packet at them.  


"There's still one left if you want to wrestle for it?" she said smiling suggestively at them.  


McGee decided it was time for a hasty retreat. He held up his hand. "Erm, n-no thank you Ma’am, that's quite all right. I was just giving the Boss here, a lift home and now I'm leaving."  


"Oh, okay," she shrugged and waved their friend goodbye. She turn her attention to Gibbs as she jumped up from the couch. She took his head in her hands and kissed him hungrily. She tasted of spaghetti and vanilla and relief that he was home in one piece. She broke the kiss and smiled.  


"Safe trip back from Classified-istan? "  


"Yeah"  


"Bad Guys suitably caught?"  


"Yeah"  


"Prison keys thrown a sufficient distance away?"  


"I guess."  


"Good. Ya see? I'm getting less freaked out about the secret stuff all the time!" She declared.  


He didn't quite believe her but shrugged it away, “If you say so.” It was then that she spotted the flowers.

"You have flowers." She stated suspiciously.

He looked at them as if they had suddenly appeared in his hand. "Oh yeah. I forgot." He proffered them awkwardly. "They're for you. I hope you like them."  


"You forgot? How do you forget something in your hand?" She took the bouquet and smelled it. "They're lovely, thank you." There was an awkward pause "... What did you do?" She asked confidently.  


"What's that supposed to mean?" He replied defensively. "Can't I just buy the woman I love some flowers? Does there have to be an ulterior motive?"

She continued to eye him suspiciously. "You have only bought flowers twice before - once when you spilt coffee over my laptop and then again when you used my vintage fabric to re-wax the table ..."  


He stepped back slightly feigning innocence. He held his hands out beseechingly. "I didn't know that was a 'thing'. I thought it was just some old rag."

She poked him in the chest with an emphasising finger, "Vintage. Fabric. So, what did you do?" 

He took the flowers from her, "Here, I'll put these in water for you." He headed towards the kitchen trying to get some distance between them. "Can you cook?" he asked suddenly as he fussed unconvincingly with the plants. "Not just supper cook. You know, big dinner kinda cook?"  


The question threw her for a moment. She thought about it and shrugged. "Well, yeah I guess. I just choose not to. Why?"  


"Cos I kinda invited everybody here for Thanks Giving ..."

She folded her arms, her gaze a degree cooler. "Define 'everybody' ..."

He shrugged attempting a casualness he didn't feel. "Well you know, everybody - Abby, Bishop, DiNozzo, the McGees ... "

She did a quick mental count. "Twelve? You want me to make dinner for twelve?"  


"I think it's closer to twenty but I don't think Leon will come because he usually goes to Jackie's family. And Grace has her in-laws ..."  


“You've clearly given this a lot of thought.”

He shrugged. “There’s not much else to do at night in Classified-istan.”

She looked around the house in a moment of domestic panic. She scratched her head and gasped in exasperation. "I mean, where are we going to seat everybody? We don’t even have enough plates...."  


"People can bring chairs and stuff and I can make a tressel table in no time. We'll be fine." He put the flowers on the table for her and then tentatively put an arm around her waist. "I know I should have asked you first but I just wanted us to have a proper, family Thanks Giving. How long since either of us had that? It will be fun ... really. I promise."

She sighed. It was clearly important to him. "Okay, but you're gonna help me a lot." He nodded. "You're going to do all the peeling."  


"I promise."  


"And all the dishes."  


"Scouts Honour."  


"You were never a Boy Scout," she declared emphatically.  


"No, but I'm always prepared." He grinned at her, his eyes set on 'Maximum Charm'. She laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm. "Stop that! You know I can't be annoyed at you when you look at me like that."  


"See? Always prepared." 

He kissed her behind her ear as he headed down to the basement for an hour or so. He smiled to himself. Yeah, he'd missed all this domestic stuff. It was time he did something about that.  


\---  


"Hi Abbs" she said cheerfully as her friend answered the phone.  


"Hey, how are you? Did you get the peanut cookies I sent home with Gibbs the other day? I thought he might eat them on the way home." Abby replied.  


"No, not all of them. Thank you. They were really good. Listen, I need your help."  


"Oh? Everything okay?" Abby began to sound worried.  


"Yeah, it's nothing bad. The other day Jethro came home with this really lovely bouquet of flowers. I mean, they were really lovely ... " She paused for a moment. She heard Abby laugh through the ether.  


"He pulled an 18 on you didn't he?"  


"A what?"  


"Rule #18 - It is better to seek forgiveness than ask permission."  


"That's another rule?"  


"Yes it is. One of his favourites. He uses that one a lot."  


"Okay, I will bear that in mind for future reference. In the meantime do you have any spare plates?"

☆☆☆  


"What did you do this time?" Fornell barked at Gibbs as he answered the door.  


"What makes you think I did something?" Gibbs replied.  


"Because your woman is in town and instead of being with her you’re knocking on my door. So what did you do this time?"  


Gibbs stomped across the threshold like a moody teenager. "She bought a couch."  


Tobias was confused. "What? She bought a what? A couch? I don't follow. What's wrong with that?"  


"I thought she wanted to replace my old one."  


Fornell shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that either."  


"Hey! Shannon and I picked that out."  


Tobias nodded to himself. "Ah. Well that explains why you're here ... You said something didn't you? It's always dangerous when you say something. Especially when it’s to a woman you purport to love."  


"You're supposed to be my friend, Tobias." Gibbs grumbled.  


"I am, but I'm not your goddamn marriage counsellor! So then what happened?"  


"I said some stuff ... Some of it might have been a bit mean ... And then I stormed out and got in the truck ... And then as I drove away, I realised she didn't want to replace the old couch. It's extra seating for Thanks Giving. Then I felt like an idiot and wondered where to go ... So I came here. And now I feel really stupid and I'm here."  


"You are really stupid ... and you're here." Fornell handed him a beer. "One beer and then you have to go home and face the music you jackass."  


\---  


She sat on a box in the master bedroom. There was very little actually in the room. A bare bed, a closet and some drawers, maybe a dozen boxes. She cleared her head, closed her eyes for a moment. When she re-opened them, she could almost see her.  


"Hello Shannon," she said. "It's been a while. We met very briefly. I’m not sure you’d remember particularly. I thought I should come and re-introduce myself. After all, we share the same house ... and the same man for that matter."  


"You have to know that, unlike the others, I am not looking to replace you. I know that that could never happen. It would be like asking him to cut out a huge piece of his heart. I know that he will never be able to do that, no matter how hard he pretends he can. I know the greater part of him belongs to you. I know that and I accept that. And I will accept whatever he is willing to give of himself." 

She laughed, "I have to say though Shannon, you must have been a saint. He can be a real asshole sometimes ..." She looked skyward. "He doesn't listen! ... And then he doesn't think before he gets all high and mighty ... And then, then he has to open his mouth and, let's be honest here, not everything that comes out of it is particularly smart!" She shook her head incredulously. "Anyway, why am I telling you all this - you already know!"  


"I want you to know that I love him. I love him with my whole heart. And I will take care of him, and encourage him and protect him from this world to the very best of my ability. And I will never, ever hurt him, Shannon. You have my word. But please, don't get mad if I yell at him sometimes - he's not always right – despite his own opinions to the contrary!" 

"Anyway, I'm glad we had this talk. I feel better for it. I hope you do too." She stood up, brushed the dust from her lap and hands. "And now, I have to get a couch picked up ..." 

  
Sitting on the stairs, listening to her talking to his dead wife, a solitary tear lodged in the corner of Gibbs' eye. As she left the bedroom he stood and looked at her. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no words managed to escape. He fiddled with the baseball cap in his hands. He stared at it as if for inspiration. Then he sighed in defeat, stepped towards her and swept her into his arms. He kissed her and then buried his face in her hair.  


"No more bull shit.” He mumbled into her neck. “I'll try harder I promise. I'm just out of practice living with someone else. I'm getting old and set in my ways. I'll get better."  


"This whole shacking up together thing was your idea." She pointed out.  


"I know," he replied "I didn't say I was any good at it - ask my ex-wives."  


The couch stayed. Some throws and cushions appeared. The bedding on the back of the old couch disappeared. He slept in their bed even when she was away.

☆☆☆  


It had been a long, hard day and the team were exhausted and stressed. They congregated in the bar after work. Abby and Palmer joined them. Dr. Mallard would too as soon as he'd finished dissecting something unmentionable in polite company.  


For reasons known only to himself their fearless leader had been in a terrible mood for days now. More than his usual Grizzly-Bear-Gibbs routine; this was more the Fire-Breathing-Dragon-of-Doom-Gibbs. From the minute he climbed off the elevator in the morning Gibbs was baying for blood until he stomped back into the elevator at the end of the day. (Much to everyone else's relief.)

Each had taken a turn to vent their particular frustration. With a collective sigh, there was a satisfied lull in the conversation. They had hoped things would improve now that Gibbs ‘social’ life was on the mend. But clearly, that wasn't happening. Then somebody asked the group, "What is it with him and women? How can they live with him? Four wives and umpteen girlfriends - what's with that?"  


"Yes, what is that about?" wondered Bishop, looking thoughtful. She turned to Abby. "You're probably the woman who's known him the longest. You must have an idea?"  


Abby sucked on her drinks straw in thought. "Oh that's easy," she declared. "He's a total dish. I mean just look at the man."  


Tony and McGee objected loudly. "No, no, no. A man with that haircut is NOT a babe magnet. It does not happen." Objected Tony.  


"And I doubt there is a woman under 75 who finds polo shirts becoming," added McGee for good measure.  


Abby dived into the lull in the conversation. "Well maybe there's something about him we haven't seen?" The same thought seemed to skip across to Bishop. They looked at each other and then Ellie took up the baton. She cleared her throat, took a sip of her drink.  


“So, uhh, have any of you guys noticed anything in the ... umm ... locker room that might explain why women like him?"  


"Eleanor Catherine Bishop! How can you ask such a thing?" DiNozzo hammed. "I am shocked, nay horrified that you could ask us such a question. Shame on you!"

Bishop just waved him away like a bug. Looking behind him she said, "It doesn't matter Tony. Ducky will tell us."  


Jimmy settled the doctor at the table with a beer. "What am I going to tell you?" He asked Eleanor.  


"We are trying to figure out what women find attractive about Gibbs. I mean, they obviously do – for a little while at least."  


"Oh, that's easy, My Dear," replied Mallard. "It's his charm."  


Several of the group choked on their drinks. The others just stared at the doctor in disbelief. Surely they had misheard? Only Abby seemed to agree with Dr. Mallard. She leaned back in her chair smiling and hugging Bert the Hippo. Her face a picture of _"I-told-you-so."_  
"Oh yes," continued the doctor. "He can be very charming and gallant when he's in the business of wooing a potential mate."  


"Wooing?" asked DiNozzo. "Does anybody do wooing anymore?"

Ducky ignored him. "His problem isn't finding a mate. No, his problem is keeping her. Once the lady has said yes, he reverts back to the Jethro we all know and love and that's when the trouble starts." The doctor took a sip of his beer and then chuckled to himself. "And there I was thinking you were going to ask me about the size of his ..."  


"The size of my what, Duck?" demanded Gibbs clamping a not so gentle hand on the doctor's shoulder.

Ducky winced slightly and patted the hand. It loosened its grip apologetically. "The size of your wallet, Dear Boy." He nodded at the rest of the team. "This lot were wondering whether you might be about to ask a certain lady of our acquaintance to marry you. "  


“We were?” asked Tim.  


“Yes, you were, weren't you?” Ducky glared at McGee over the top of his glasses. McGee took the hint.  


“Oh yes ... yes we were. We were all thinking that. Nothing else ... um ... just that ...”  


Gibbs snorted. "Really? Whatever gave you that idea?"  


A lot of non-committal noises ensued until Jimmy piped up with "My goodness is that the time?" Within seconds everyone was gone ... Except Abby. Gibbs shrugged and sat down opposite her.  


"Was it something I said?" He asked.  


"Er yeah, at anytime in the last week," came the reply. He was quiet for a moment as he took in the information.  


"Guess I might have been a bit short with folks recently. "  


"Ya think?" Abby replied sarcastically. "What's up with you Gibbs? You're like an alligator with tooth ache."  


"I just have a lot on my mind. Abbs." She reached over and placed her hand on top of his.  


"So why didn't you talk to us instead of grumping at us all week?" He raised his eyebrows at her.  


"Grumping?"

She looked defensively through her eyelashes at him. She clutched the hippo intensely. "It's a word. Grumping's a word."

He sighed. "If you say so, Abbs." He shrugged again and reached into his jacket pocket. "I need you to do something for me and you can't tell anyone, okay. Not your usual not telling anyone, the real thing. NOBODY. Okay?" She nodded in wide eyed agreement. "Good."  


He pulled a plastic evidence bag out of his pocket. In it was a piece of broken coffee mug. It had clearly been dusted for prints. It showed a partial palm print - the top of the palm and the lower part of the four fingers of a left hand. He pointed at the ring finger of the impression. "Can you figure out the size of this finger from this print?"  


Abby squealed excitedly. Several patrons around the bar stared at her. She held Burt to her face in an attempt to hide. Gibbs turned around and glared menacingly at them. They found somewhere else to look in double-quick time.

Abby's big eyes smiled at him from across the soft toy's head. She nodded excitedly and asked, "Was that whose coffee cup I think it is?" Gibbs nodded briefly. "So why the grumping? You should be all excited!"  


"Because this is usually when it starts to go wrong and I don't want that to happen again."  


"So don't let it." She shrugged. "Simple." She picked up the piece of coffee mug and stared at it through the plastic." I'll have the size for you tomorrow. IF you stop grumping at everyone."

He stood up and kissed the top of her head. "I will." He turned and walked towards the door. "And that is so not a word!" He yelled behind his back.

☆☆☆  


"So what do you usually do at Christmas?" She asked

"Sleep or work. What about you?" Gibbs replied.

She laughed joylessly. "Sleep or work. Or sometimes I go to Moira's and be a spare wheel."

"Yeah me too - Abby's or Tobias."

She sat up abruptly. "Have you got a tree?"

"In the attic. Haven't put it up since my Dad passed."

"Can you get it? I haven't put a tree up since ... forever. I don't count the office tree. Please? Can we?"

He stood up and sighed dramatically. She had that 'little kid' look about her. How could he refuse that? He smiled to himself - That was his 'quiet night' done for!  


\---  


"And this one was when we got married. And this one was Kelly's first Christmas. And ..."

Gibbs’ eyes shone with the memories. Bitter sweet as he rummaged through the box of baubles and assorted Christmas trinkets. 

"And this one," a look of pride on his face, "I made this for my Mom when I was just 8 years old. I made it with my Dad. I got the ribbon from her sewing box." There was a pause. "We never made another one." He added sadly.

She placed a hand gently over his. "Will you make a special bauble for me?" She asked trying to lighten the mood. 

"Sure. But it will have to be next year - I already have one for this year. ... He nodded towards the tree. "I kinda figured you'd want to do this."

"Oh you did huh?" she questioned.  


"Oh yeah, well," he said, sagely. He shrugged and added, "That and the dozens of references to Christmas you've made in the last fortnight. So I made sure the tree was somewhere I could reach it and I went out and bought you a special decoration for it - but you can't have that until Christmas morning." He reached around her waist and pulled her against him, kissing behind her ear.  


"I feel bad," She pouted. "I don't have a decoration for the tree." She reached for her earring - an elaborate collection of hoops and beads and hung it on the tree. She stepped back, pleased with her compromise. "There!"

"You can't have that back now, you know. It has to stay in the box with the others after Christmas." She nodded,  


"I know. It will help us to remember our first Christmas together."

"Oh I don't think that's going to be a problem," he answered mysteriously.  


\---  


"Ready?" Gibbs asked from behind the tree. She nodded like an excited child. She switched off the room lights and he flicked the switch to the tree. A hundred multi-coloured lights sparkled in the darkness. She clapped her hands.  


"It's beautiful."  


He hadn't noticed. He was watching her face and her reaction to the tree. Sometimes she just took his breath away without ever realising it. He smiled to himself. _"Grace was right,"_ he thought to himself. _"I got it bad with this one."_ He patted his pocket. Good, it was still there.  


\---  


They lay on the couch making out by the light from the tree like lovesick teens. They broke for air and he reached for his phone to check the time. He showed her the screen.  


"00:14, Merry Christmas, Babe." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her warmly holding her tightly to him. How many years had it been since he had looked forward to Christmas? Since he hadn't dreaded every second of it. That and New Year too? He held her even tighter - afraid any minute now she would disappear in a cloud of smoke and he'd wake up in the real world and his old life.  


She sat up, a worried look across her face. "Hey, what's the matter Sweetheart?"  


"Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all," he reassured her. "Not any more. I got lost in the past for a minute there. Having you here … I can't believe my luck sometimes."  


She kissed him lightly. "Let's do presents. That will cheer you up. I'll go first."  


She climbed over him, off the couch and trotted up the stairs. He quickly took the small box from his pocket and hung it on the tree.  


She came back down stairs in the new silk negligée she had been saving for this evening. He reached for her. His hands glided smoothly down her body to her hips.  


“I like the wrapping, can I open my present now?” He grinned, his earlier melancholy forgotten.

She laughed holding out a box about the size of his fist. “You have to open this one first. Santa's elves worked overtime on it.” She sat down next to him while he examined the box quizzically. "Merry Christmas, Sweetheart. I hope you like it."

He kissed her tenderly. "I know I will." He tore off the wrapping and opened the box. A 1962 Omega Seamaster Deville watch stared back at him. He looked at her beaming.  


"It is the right one, isn't it? Tobias told me you like watches and that you've been looking for one of these. I did get the right one didn't I?  


"Oh my, I'd say you did?!" he exclaimed with obvious delight. He wound the watch, put it on his wrist and admired it for a moment. He smiled broadly, clearly delighted. "Where did you find this? I've been looking for one of these for years! You have to wait for them to come up in auction. I've got requests in at a dozen auction houses around here." She patted his hand patiently as one would a small child.  


"I really have to teach you how to use the internet." She sighed.  


"Okay, now it's your turn." He said nervously. "It's only small so I hid it on the tree."  


She went over to the tree and began to search amongst its branches. "I don't see anything, Sweetheart. Maybe it fe..."  


She stopped mid-sentence. There, next to her earring hanging from a red ribbon, was a small velvet box. She took the box nervously from the branch and opened it. Inside shone a diamond solitaire.

He walked over to the tree and took her hand in his. He kissed the inside of her wrist and then looked deeply into her eyes  


"It's been a real roller coaster our time together, hasn't it? Some really bad stuff but then some magical things too. And I have felt myself come to life again."  


He smiled ruefully, "I sleep in a bed! I eat properly. (At least when you’re here). I have a social life. I have a wonderful family around me. I've even found some dress sense from somewhere." They both laughed. Her eyes shone.  


"I know I can still be an ass sometimes, but I'm working on that. I want to get better for you. I am already a better man because of you." He got down on one knee.  


"I never thought I would do this again." he said shaking his head. “I know I don't have a particularly good track record and based on that, I would understand if you said 'no'; but it would make me the happiest of men alive, if you would agree to accept my hand in marriage."  


Her gaze remained on him the entire time he spoke. She answered without hesitation. "Of course I will. " He looked ecstatic and relieved ... "Now, will you get up before you hurt your knee!" She pleaded. He staggered to his feet. The knee gave way. She had to catch him.  


"Too late!"

He winced as he wrapped her in his arms. They kissed passionately and held each other tightly. He took the ring from the box and placed it on her finger. It fitted perfectly. He kissed her palm lightly and brushed his hand across his face quickly trying to hide the tear that had managed to escape.  


"How did you know my ring size? She asked.  


"Oh that involved a broken coffee cup, some math and Abby - she worked it out for me.  


"So Abby knew you were going to propose?"  


He nodded. "She's very good with secrets - important ones anyway. I'm gonna have to call her with your answer soon before she explodes."  


"Hey Abbs,"  


"Hey Gibbs"  


"Merry Christmas"  


"And Merry Christmas to you too Gibbs ... So, did you ask her?"  


"I did."  


"And what did she say? Come on Gibbs, you know this has been killing me for weeks!"  


"She said yes." He held the phone away from his ear as a loud squeal emminated from the earpiece.  


"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, I am so, so happy for you. Can I tell the others?"  


"Of course you can."  


"Hey guys, she said yes!" A loud cheer could be heard from the phone's earpiece. Somewhere a champagne cork popped.  


"They're all there?"  


"Of course, we've been waiting for your call."  


"You told everybody didn't you?"  


"All except the important one. This is the best Christmas Day ever, Gibbs!" They laughed along with their friends at the other end of the line.  


"Okay, I'm going away now." shouted Gibbs over the noise. "Don't call me. See you tomorrow." He chuckled as he hung up his phone. She took it from him and threw it behind the couch.  


"Leave it there." she begged. "I don't want to share you with anyone else for the rest of the day."  


She climbed astride him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him passionately. When she broke free of his mouth, she continued on to his neck and his ear.  


"Oh, that's good, Mrs. Gibbs," he moaned. "keep doing that." She smiled.  


"That was my intension, Mr. Gibbs. For the rest of my life."

  
****

***WARNING: EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT***  


The shadows around the room flickered and danced in the tree and fire light. There was a warm relaxed glow around the room. They kissed languidly. She stretch out her body and lay against him. She ran her hands across his arms and shoulders feeling the strength in his muscles as he wrapped himself around her.  


"You looked so beautiful earlier when you were looking at the tree.” Gibbs said softly. “I couldn't speak. I just wanted to watch you all night."  
He stood and took her hand. “Come on, I've got one more thing to show you.” He led her toward the stairs.  


She looked at him salaciously. “Why Sir, whatever do you have in mind?” She giggled trying to undo his pants from behind him. Her fingers tickled. He grabbed her hands laughing.  


“Just hold on a there a darn minute.” He turned and kissed her again. “All in good time,” and then carried on up the stairs.  


Instead of heading towards their room as usual, he stopped at the door to the unused master bedroom. With a steadying breath he opened the door and led her into the room.  


He had clearly been busy on her trips away - redecorating and making new furniture. The centrepiece was a large hand built oak bed. The headboard intricately carved with foliage and Celtic knot work. It must have taken him weeks to complete. The love and care taken clearly evident.  


Gibbs turned to face her, and took her hands. He brought them to his mouth and kissed her fingers lightly. He continued to hold them to his lips as he spoke.  


“I’m ready. I’m ready to be here with you. You've never pushed me. You've never questioned my feelings. You’ve always understood and you’ve been so, so patient. I cannot thank you enough.” He threw a glance around the room. “And this, this is the least I could do.”  


He pulled her to him and kissed her tenderly. A sob of overwhelming emotion caught in his throat. He broke free from the kiss and buried his face in her hair. He took a deep breath focussing on its perfume, the softness of its waves against his face. They stood quietly together a moment more before he lifted her into his arms and lay her gently onto the bed. He undressed and joined her, leaning across to kiss her intensely once more. “Lie back,” he whispered. “This is all for you.”  


His hands glided smoothly down her silk gown – across her breast, down her stomach, down her thigh. She gasped as suddenly his hands changed direction and pushed the soft fabric back up her body towards her waist to reveal her nakedness beneath it.  


He reach up for a second and slid one satin strap off her shoulder exposing her breast. Their eyes met. He reached up and kissed her again grabbing her hair in desperation as if any moment she might disappear.  


His hand glided smoothly across her stomach and down between her thighs. He caressed her centre rhythmically, a small smile of satisfaction crossed his lips as she started to groan and gasp. Her hips began to match the rhythm his fingers gradually slipping further inside her with every lift of her hips. Her hands held his wrist for fear he would leave her too soon. “That's my girl" he whispered. “That’s it.” He encouraged.  


He lowered his mouth to her neck. Soft kisses travelled lightly down to her shoulder then still further to her breast. He blew gently on the flesh moistened by his lips. Her skin tingled into life. His kisses continued across the soft skin towards her nipple. It stood tight and hard begging for attention. She could feel his lips so close around it. He licked across it slowly. She gasped with the sudden touch, every nerve ending screaming for more.  


After what felt like an eternity he very deliberately drew the nipple into his mouth. He sucked tenderly on her to the same rhythm as his hand. She groaned in ecstasy trying to encourage a faster pace. She was so close to climax. She ran her fingers through his hair absently as her mind focused on his hand and his mouth. His rhythm increasing slowly, achingly ignoring the insistence her body demanded.  


Finally, Gibbs let her have her release. It was fast and powerful. She writhed around his hand delirious in the pleasure he gave. There was no more waiting as the wave engulfed her. She clung to him gasping for air, her body trembling against him in orgasmic shock.  


She lay with her eyes closed. A contented half smile upon her lips. Her body undulating slowly to the rhythm he had set. He entered her gently in one continuous movement. Their lips met as she wrapped her limbs around him. His body strong and controlled above hers.  


She cooed, whispering sweet nothings of encouragement as he fought for control of his body. “That’s right my Love. Feel my heartbeat next to yours. My legs around you. Stay with me, no faster. Stay with me. “  


Their bodies melding into one, each feeding off the other’s energy until there was nowhere left to go. Their cry in unison, they held tightly to each other as the universe collapsed and spun around them.  


They kissed contentedly, almost lazily. He smiled at her as she lay sleepily in him arms. He played with a strand of her hair - soft and smooth between his fingers. “Did you like that?” he asked smugly.  


“Oh my, did I?” She replied. “Where did you learn all that?” 

He shrugged innocently. “I’m a carpenter,” he replied. “I'm good with my hands!”  


They both laughed and kissed more playfully. They rolled into their spooning pattern, ready for sleep. He kissed the top of her head.  


“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Gibbs, I love you.”  


***  


A breeze blew gently across the sleeping couple. It ruffled the man's hair. He stirred briefly and pulled the sleeping woman closer to him. The breeze sighed softly and smiled before crossing the room and fading through the wall. They were glad he had found happiness after so many years alone.


	7. Rats

**Part II - Dark  
**

****

****

**  
Chapter Seven - Rats**

It started with a rat. A dead one to be exact. The expansion to new DC premises had been coming along nicely. The main building was old granted, but she had some excellent help on hand for advice and repairs. The offices were in a different location and newer, but still nothing glamorous. 

She parked her car around back as usual. There was a dead rat on the back doorstep. It was gross but not alarming. She wrapped it in newspaper and threw it in the dumpster. "Poor thing," she thought. "What a sad way to end."

The following morning, another dead rat on the doorstep. And then another. She thought there must be a local cat bringing her gifts. She started putting cat food out for it. The rats stopped appearing. "Problem solved," she thought. "It might be quite nice to have an office cat around here." She thought nothing more of it. 

She hired a new assistant - Brenda. They worked towards the opening of the new branch. It was hard work, long hours. She and Jethro communicated mostly via post it notes on the refrigerator. It was getting to both of them.

Then one weekend when they finally had a morning together, Brenda called. She was hysterical - the dead rats had re-appeared but this time they were headless and nailed to the door frame. "There ain't no cat can do that," freaked Brenda  


\---  


Gibbs spent the rest of the weekend at the office with McGee installing alarms and CCTV. "You don't have to do this you know. I can get a company in to do it on Monday." She complained. 

"Really, it's no bother,” replied McGee. “I got a good deal on the system for you and it means Delilah and I won't worry about you." He continued through a mouth full of screws.  


"Yeah, and if we do it, I know it works and I know you two ladies are safe." Added Gibbs, clearly in a bad mood. 

"Oh, that’s so gallant of you, Agent Gibbs," crooned Brenda clearly smitten with her employer's beau. She smiled at Gibbs and fluttered her false eye lashes seductively at him. "Will you be checking up on us regularly, Agent Gibbs?" She fluttered.  


"Yes Ma'am I will," he turned to face his fiancé, "Now I know there's an issue here." 

_There is was!_ She knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. _Gallantry my ass! _He was pissed as hell and he had to make sure she knew it. They argued in the car on the way home.  
__

__"It's not 'an issue'. It's just some creep trying to intimidate us or someone that needs help. Christ, it's nothing compared to some of the stuff we've had to deal with in the past. The Philie office ..."_ _

____

"But this isn't Philadelphia and I didn't know you then." He snapped. Damn, the traffic was bad tonight. He didn't want to do this trapped in a car.  


____

"What's that supposed to mean?"  


____

"It means," his voice rising steadily in volume, "that those cameras should have gone up weeks ago. It means you put yourself and Brenda at risk. And for some reason, you thought I didn't need to know about it."  


____

"And this is precisely why. You are totally over reacting! It's probably some homeless guy with mental problems. We need to find him and get him some help, not punch him out or gun him down."  


____

"D'You really think that's what I'd do?"  


____

"Oh absolutely! And I don't need your protection either. I've had to deal with far worse on my own thank you very much." 

____

Gibbs slammed on the car brakes. Vehicles around them swerved hard to miss them. There were lots of blaring horns, yelling and obscene hand gestures. He hit his palms on the steering wheel. It made her jump in her seat. "But you're not ON your own. You don't get it, do you?" He yelled at her. "You're not on your own anymore. You have me now. And I need to know that you're safe. I need to protect you.  


____

I know you can deal with this and worse I'm sure. But I couldn't cope if something happened to you. You're the strongest person I know - Far more than me. But you gotta let me help you sometimes and this, this I can do."  


____

The silence between them dragged on. Thick enough to cut. Unshed tears of frustration stung her eyes. She hated when they argued. It felt like defeat. They both should know better.  


____

Cars continued to drive around them. Their drivers staring angrily. They didn't care what was going on. They just cared about the extra two minutes it would take to get around the obvious argument going on and get back on their route home.  


____

Gibbs re-started the engine and got back into the flow of traffic still fuming. She sat looking out of the car window her arms folded across her body defensively. Her face was red with anger. Her throat sore from shouting, and to make things worse ... he was right. They were a couple now but she hadn't even considered asking for his help. She was still acting alone. Well, she was damned if she was going to admit it! Neither of them spoke for the rest of the journey.  


\---  


"What did you do this time?" Fornell sighed as he opened his front door.  


____

"What makes you think it was me?" She asked defensively as she crossed the threshold. 

____

__

____

☆☆☆  


When she got home, he was in the basement. (No surprise there.) She could hear hammering and the odd curse. Whatever he was doing was not going well. She sighed. This wasn't how she had wanted their evening to go. Too often these days they would wind up yelling at each other. She didn't mean it but he could be so pig headed sometimes. Work was long and tiring for both of them right now and they were taking it out on each other.  


\---  


Gibbs heard the car pull up onto the drive. Fornell had called to say she was on her way. Well he wasn't going up stairs to meet her. She knew where he was if she wanted to talk. He hit his thumb. "Damn it!" She could be so stubborn sometimes! He hated the tension between them right now. Truth be told, it frightened him more than a little. Memories of previous marriages reared their ugly heads at him.  


\---  


He heard a noise behind him and turned sharply. Something had fallen from the top of the stairs. It was a jacket - women's, navy blue with a purple lining. A minute later, a skirt of similar design followed. A lady's stiletto shoe went clattering down the stairs. The second one flew over the banister and bounced off the side of the boat. He picked it up and pretended to check the hull for damage. He smiled broadly. 

____

"If that's supposed to be an apology, it's working." He shouted up the stairs.  


____

"You told me never to apologise," she stood in the doorway. She walked down a few steps undoing her blouse. He watched her button by button. "I'm tired of fighting. I don't like it." The blouse came off. She held it at arm’s length for a moment and then dropped it over the banister to join the shoe. He picked it up and held it to his nose - breathing in the now familiar aroma of Chanel No.5. She carried on down the stairs her arms behind her back. "We're so much better than that. I know it's just because we're both tired and cranky. Too much work, not enough play for this Jack and Jill - not enough 'us' time." Her bra fell to the floor. Her full breasts bared for him. "I was wracking my brain all the way home trying to think of something that would make us both feel ... less stressed." She squeezed herself between his body and the workbench and looked up at him seductively. “So wha’d’ya think so far? Is it helping?” She rubbed a hand against his hardening groin. "Oh yeah, I think it’s helping. Now that's wood I can understand!"  


\---  


A flash of hot pink scooted across the floor and under the work bench; propelled by a well aimed kick from Gibbs' left boot.  


"What was that?" Enquired Fornell as he came trotting down the stairs with a pizza box and a couple of beers.  


"What was what?" Gibbs asked nonchalantly. "I don't know what you mean?"  


"You just kicked something under the bench."  


"Did not!"  


"Did so."  


"What are you talking about, Tobias?" Gibbs shrugged innocently.  


"Tell me that's not what I think it is under the work bench?" Fornell tried to push Gibbs out of the way. "Let me get in there."  


Gibbs pushed back. "No. Don't be so ridiculous."  


"Ah-ha, so there is something under there - all my years of FBI training told me I was right. You can’t get passed me, oh no!" There was a pause as slowly, the penny dropped. A look of horror spread across Fornell’s face. "Ah, come on! Are you kidding me?! Down here? Is nowhere sacred?"  


Gibbs folded his arms in front of him defensively but he failed to hide the grin completely. He shrugged. He open and closed his mouth. No words happened.  


Tobias held his hand in front of Gibbs' face. "No, don't tell me. I don't want to hear it. Just know I am extremely jealous, my friend. You're one lucky son-of-gun. You know that right?"  


"I'm learning that more everyday." Gibbs said. They clinked beer bottles.  


"Amen to that," replied Fornell.

____

☆☆☆  


"Have you got it all working, Tim?" Gibbs asked.  


"I have. You do realise you are toast if she finds out?" Said his tech expert.  


"Well, she'll only find out if you tell her, McGee." Gibbs replied staring at his compatriot menacingly.  


"Of ... of ... of course I would never do that, Boss."  


"Good, now show me how to use this thing."

____

McGee sighed. This was going to be the hardest part. "Okay. It's a standard CCTV system in that it records activity on site when it detects it. That's the bit they know about and I've shown them how to use. But you can also log in at anytime from any computer - just to keep an eye - and that's the bit that's going to get your privates roasted. Sir."  


"That's a risk I'm willing to take."  


"Are you sure? Remember what happened the last time and that was just a misunderstanding. This? ... I would hate to see you divorced before your wedding. Sir."  


"I appreciate your concern, Tim, but what else am I supposed to do? Wait until something really bad happens? I can't do that."  


"Well, just so you know, Sir"  


\---  


"So, you got you're camera thing working yet?" She sat with her arms folded across from him at dinner. He stopped in his tracks. A forkful of food half way to his mouth.  


“Well, I was meaning to talk to you about that ... " He said lamely. He knew he was in trouble.  


"So did you get it working or didn't you?"  


"Yeah"  


"Why didn't you just ask me? Why all the secrecy?"  


"Would you have said yes?"  


"No."  


"And that's exactly why I didn't ask ... Aren't you mad at me?"

"I'm tired of being mad at you. Maybe this time you're right - Just this once though!" She laughed. "This whole rat thing is getting beyond creepy. But you can tell McGee he's off my Christmas list."  


"How did you find out?"  


"I can read. It's all in the manual McGee left on the desk."  


_"Yep, he's off my Christmas list too,"_ Gibbs thought.

____

☆☆☆

At a seedy looking pawn shop in a less tourist-friendly part of DC, Gibbs suddenly stopped mid stride. The pawn broker had no useful information. A dead end lead in a whole slew of dead end leads. 

“Whatcha looking at Boss?” asked a curious Bishop.

Gibbs didn’t hear her, suddenly lost in an idea. He called the pawn guy over. Pointing to a small firearm in the cabinet he asked, “Can I take a look at that?”

The rotund man behind the counter unlocked the cabinet nervously and handed the gun to Gibbs. The Agent opened it. Looked down the barrel. Checked the firing pin. Judged the weight of the piece. Checked the sight. It was old and grubby. It obviously hadn’t been fired in a month of Sundays, but it was nothing he couldn't fix with the right tools and a little patience.

“How much do you want for this?” he asked holding it under the shop keeper’s nose.

“I ... I ... I'm sure we can come to some arrangement.” He stammered. Gibbs riled at the implication. He leaned menacingly toward the man.

“I didn’t ask for an arrangement, I asked for a price,” he growled.

“Well, it is a vintage piece. 30, 35 years old. Very typical of it’s kind. Note, it still has the original grip and it’s original case.”

“Yes, I can see all that.” Gibbs snapped irritably, his patience fast running out. “I just want to know how much it is.”

Sweating profusely now, the shop keeper looked at the gun, then at Gibbs, then back at the gun – trying to figure out what a government employee was getting paid these days.

Gibbs slapped the firearm back on the counter. “Fine, I'll look someplace else.”

“No wait, I'll say 100 bucks.” Said the shop keeper.

“I'll give you $60 with a box of those shells over there.” Gibbs glared. Negotiation was over. The pawn broker nodded in agreement dejectedly. Not his best sale of the week but probably one of the safest. He reached for his paperwork.

\---

She stepped carefully down the basement stairs, two cups of coffee in hand.Every Monday evening was the same. After dinner Gibbs would descend into the basement with various weapons for cleaning and maintenance. This Monday it seemed to be taking longer than usual. She put the coffee down next to him and looked across the work bench.

There seemed to be an extra gun amid the usual suspects. “Is that a new one for your collection?” She asked nodding towards it.

“Well it is new, but it’s not mine.” He replied.

“Oh?”

He took a breath. “It’s yours. I bought for you at the weekend.”

She looked heavenwards for a moment. “Sweetheart, we've discussed this before. I don’t want anything to do with guns. They are dangerous and they kill people.”

He put the gun down on the bench and took her hand. “Look, I worry about you every day. Where you work is not the best of areas. This whole rat thing. I would feel better knowing you had this with you. I'll teach you how to stop someone, not kill them if it make you feel better. Guns are only dangerous in the wrong hands.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers.“And these are most definitely the right hands.” He held her fingers to his lips a moment longer. “Promise me you'll at least think about it.”

She looked down at her husband and at the gun in pieces in front of him. She hadn’t realised he worried quite so much about her. She ran her fingers through his hair before picking up her coffee cup and heading for the stairs.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” She left the words floating on the air between them as she went back upstairs to her laptop. 

☆☆☆  


Things got more serious when a cat was left at the back door. It’s neck had been broken. Brenda was inconsolable and she wasn't the only one.

____

"How can people do that?!" wailed Abby. "He was somebody's pet, somebody's companion. He was loved. He never hurt anything except maybe the odd catnip mouse. You gotta do something Gibbs. Catch them and lock them up for ever and ever."  


"I'm working on it Abbs. You got anything yet from the cat's claws?"  


"I'm still running the DNA. Our feline friend put up quite a fight. This guy is going to have a lot of scratches on his arms.  


When you find him Gibbs, I want in on the bust. I want to slap the cuffs on him and give him the third degree in Interrogation. You can be Bad Cop and I'll be Evil Scientist. He'll crack in no time, Gibbs."  


"Oh I have no doubt about that, Abbs. But first I need that DNA match." Abby saluted.  


"Major Mass Spec. is on it Sir. We'll get this bastard, I guarantee you, Sir."  


"Abbs, cut out the 'Sirs' will ya? It's giving me a headache." He snapped irritably. Abby continued to salute as he left the lab.  


"If you say so, Dear."  


\---  


He left quickly. Abbs was way passed a 'coherent' caffeine level. He headed down to autopsy for what he hoped would be a more measured opinion.  


"So Duck, got any ideas?"  


"It's all quite bizarre Jethro." the good doctor replied. "The events may have escalated but I think that is mere coincidence.” Gibbs opened his mouth ready to quote Rule #39. Ducky waved a hand towards him to delay him.

“Yes, yes I'm well aware of your rule but it's as if each act were committed by a different person. The method of killing and display are different. The length of time between incidences. The time of day. Nothing follows any sort of logical pattern."  


"Oh, it does Duck. We just haven't figured it out yet."  


"How are the ladies taking this latest event?"  


"They're a bit shaken but they're hanging in there. They're angry and concerned. Brenda wants to quit - unsurprisingly."  


"And your good lady-wife-to be?"  


"Livid. I wouldn't like to be in this guy's shoes if she and Abby get to him before we do. The sicko is going to need protective custody." Gibbs shook his head in frustration. "I'm frustrated we're getting nowhere. You wouldn't think it would be so difficult. No fingerprints. No tyre tracks. No footage of any use. Squat!  


The LEO's aren't interested - it's hardly the crime of the century. They put it down to kids or drugs or both. To be honest, I'm only concerned because of my personal involvement."  


The two men turned at the teetering sound of high heeled shoes running tentatively towards them. The automatic doors swooshed open. "Gibb, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs," Abby came rushing through the door a sheet of paper in her hand. "We got the bastard! Our feline hero saved the day. He gave us the creep's DNA." She handed Gibbs the piece of paper. "Say hello to James Walter Conrad. Our Moggy Murderer. Now wait there while I get my coat."  


\---  


DiNozzo and McGee were the ones to find Conrad. It wasn't difficult. He lay on the crack house floor oblivious to the two men with guns standing over him. Tony kicked him sharply in the ribs to wake him up. He sat up groggily.  


"Hey man, what the ...?"  


"Wakey, wakey Sunshine. I have a very angry boss who would like to speak to you."  


Conrad lay back down on the floor, resting his head on his arm and trying to get comfortable. "Tell Vince I'll have his money on Tuesday. I got something on that pays good but not until Tuesday."  


"Do I look like Messenger to you?" DiNozzo shoved his badge into the man's face before picking him up by the neck of his rather grubby sweatshirt. "We're not taking you to see Vince. But by the time our boss has finished with you, you're going to wish we had."

____

☆☆☆  


Jimmy Conrad aka The Moggy Murderer sat miserably in the interrogation room. He was clearly coming down from something and needing another fix. Not exactly a criminal mastermind.  


Gibbs paced the observation room irritably. Vance had barred him from taking part in the interview; partly because it was against protocols, but mostly because he wanted to rip this punk's lungs out through his nose. Tony clapped a hand on Gibbs' shoulder.  


"Relax Boss, I've got this."  


Gibbs stared at the hand on his shoulder. He reminded himself that the fingers belonged to someone he liked ... most of the time. DiNozzo gingerly lifted his hand, careful not to ruffle the jacket beneath it.  


"I'll go interview our friend here," he said and rapidly left Gibbs to his pacing. Abby came bursting into the room in her usual whirlwind fashion. She carried popcorn, Caf-Pow! and a baseball bat.

____

"Has it started yet? Did I miss anything?" Gibbs nodded towards her.  


"What's with the bat, Abbs?"  


"In case he doesn't want to talk. I'm not a violent person Gibbs but I make an exception when it comes to defenceless fluffy animals ... oh, and my friends ... and my friends' fiances ... and my friends' fiances' employees."  


"Take a breath, Abbs," Gibbs replied. "It's not going to get that far. I mean, just look at the guy."  


\---  


In the interview room Tony sat quietly pretending to read the man's file.  


"Where am I? Why am I here?" Asked Conrad. He was sweating profusely, trembling and generally looking unwell.  


"You're in an interrogation room at the DC offices of NCIS."  


"Who?"  


"Naval Criminal Investigative Service." Stated DiNozzo between gritted teeth.  


"What am I doing here? I ain't no sailor."  


"Of that, I have no doubt, my friend." Replied DiNozzo "No, you're here because you crossed swords with none other than Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and he would like some answers."  


"Never heard of him either. Why don't he ask me himself if it's so important 'stead of sending you?"  


"Well, if you don't co-operate with me, you may be unlucky enough to meet him real soon," replied DiNozzo as he placed a photo of the dead cat on the desk. "Recognise this?"

____

Conrad looked at the picture and laughed. "Oh yeah, that was funny."  


There was an angry scream and a thudding noise from behind the wall. Both men looked up at the mirror. Next door in the observation room, Gibbs wrestled the bat from Abby's fingers and sat her down roughly at the recording desk.  


"Calm down or leave." He hissed. "We're not supposed to interfere."

____

DiNozzo turned back to his suspect. He stretched his neck and shoulders out a little - aware of the irritability developing there. "So, why was it so funny?" He asked.  


"It's a cat." Said Conrad. "I thought he said cat but he said rat. I wish I'd heard right. A rat would have been a lot easier. That thing ripped the shit out of me, look!"  


He pulled up his sleeves to reveal arms covered in scratches - some of them deep and clearly infected. DiNozzo grimaced. _Well, he wouldn't be eating his lunch later!_

"Who's he?"  


"What?" Asked Conrad as he picked a scab and flicked it onto the floor. _No, definitely no lunch today!_

"You said, 'HE said 'rat' but you thought he said 'cat'. Who is HE?"

____

Conrad shrugged and continued to excavate the scabs on his arm. "Some guy I met in prison. Didn't really know him. Just some guy worked in the mess hall. He knew my time was nearly done and said he would give me extra at chowtime if I did him a favour when I got out. I got the food," he held his hands out in appeal. "I had to honour my side of the bargain."  


"Honour amongst thieves huh?" Asked DiNozzo.  


"Oh, this guy's no thief," replied Conrad. "Thieving ain't his thing. He's more physical than that. You don't ask too many questions you know? But this was easy enough - if a bit weird. And I got an extra carton of milk and an orange every day!"  


"So what did he ask you to do?"  


"Not much. He just wanted us to mess with his Old Lady's head. Leave her dead rats - on account as she is one. Only I thought he said cat." He laughed again. "Hey man, can I get some water or something, I don't feel good."

____

There was a thundering on the wall/mirror again. DiNozzo cursed under his breath. He made for the interrogation room door, yanked it open and slammed it behind him muttering, "Abby Sciutto, I swear one of these days I'm going to put you over my knee ..." He looked up. It wasn't Abby who met him.  


"Not that I ever would ... And I would never ... to you, Boss," he spluttered.  


"What? No, never mind. Let's never have that conversation."  


"No, no of course not. What is it, Boss?"  


"He said 'us' - 'HE wanted US to mess with his Old Lady.' Who is 'us'?"

____


	8. Escalation

****

**Chapter Eight - Escalation**

The warehouse was derelict - typical of the general area. It looked like a movie set. What glass remained in windows was filthy and let little light through. The stone thrown holes producing filthy, dust filled spears of dull light. Puddles of rank rain water and oil dotted the floor along with evidence of some base kind of human habitation - Piles of rubbish, a burnt out oil drum, boxes and wooden pallets strewn around. A thoroughly depressing place. Conrad and his drug addled buddy would have had no problem finding rats for their 'game' here.

The car pulled up at the hole in the wall that doubled as a doorway. Gibbs was out of the passenger door before the wheels had stopped turning. The two younger men struggled to keep up with him. They spread out into the main body of the warehouse in standard formation, guns drawn. Gibbs was already some way ahead of them. There were shouts and a succession of muzzle flashes from behind a pile of pallets followed by running footsteps.  


On the floor lay a silver haired heap of expletives clutching his ribs. Tony ran after the footsteps. McGee headed for Gibbs.  


"Boss, Boss are you okay Boss?"  


"No I'm not okay, McGee. I got sloppy and now I'm here in the dirt.” Gibbs groaned in pain. “I think I cracked a rib." He lay on the floor and yelled in anger and frustration.  


"Paramedics are on their way Boss. Let me look at that." McGee undid Gibbs’ NCIS jacket. There was blood. "I don't think that's a busted rib, Boss. You've been shot." He took a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to Gibbs' side as DiNozzo came trotting back to the two men.  


"Lost him, Boss" came the answer to an unasked question.  


"Godamnit!" yelled Gibbs angry at a universe that would dare to smite him.

They heard the ambulance pulling up. Gibbs insisted on walking over to meet the medic who promptly lay him on a gurney and wired him up to monitors. An oxygen mask put pay to the yelling - much to the relief of all concerned.  


\---  


The car wouldn't start. Then the traffic wouldn't go. There were no parking spaces. The elevator was full. It was four flights up. _"Come on, come on, come on,"_ her head screamed. The world seemed against her today! She finally got to the waiting room. DiNozzo and McGee were sitting there. She rushed into the room – a whirlwind of fear, her mind in turmoil.

McGee got to her first. He took her by the shoulders and looked steadily into her eyes. "He's okay. It’s minor surgery to get a fragment out and he's going to be just fine. Ducky's gone to find out more for us. Gibbs is going to be okay." He re-iterated.  


"Really? Or are you just saying that?" She asked.  


McGee nodded calmly at her. "Really."

She let out a deep, cleansing breath. It was the first real thing she'd done since she’d got Bishop's call. Her whole world had collapsed around her as she drove erratically to the hospital. Every imaginable scenario had passed through her head. She shook her demons away. Now, it was time to get practical but first ... "I need coffee, anyone else?" The guys declined. She went in search of a machine.

Dr. Mallard came stomping down the corridor and into the waiting room. He was in a foul mood. He was furious with his old friend. When was he going to realise that he wasn't a spring chicken anymore? He confronted the younger officers. "What were you thinking letting him go into that building on his own?" He demanded.

McGee faced the good doctor. "Uh ... uh ... Well, Ducky ... It wasn't exactly like that. You ... you know the Boss better than anyone ... and ... " DiNozzo interrupted,  


"What Timmy here is trying to say is nobody LETS the Boss do anything, Doc. He just does it. We had no chance to cover him, it was all over by the time we were in position."  


Dr. Mallard grunted at them. He knew it had gone down exactly as they described. A leopard doesn't change his spots after all, and Gibbs had some particularly brave, or foolhardy spots (depending on your point of view). He hurrumphed grumpily at the two men. "Anyway, the bullet must have ricocheted off something and a fragment got lodged between his ribs. It was an easy enough procedure.” He took a breath and changed the subject. “ You know, I don't believe that man's luck sometimes. The number of near misses he's had. He must have a guardian angel somewhere."  


The younger men were looking at him strangely. Tony smiled wryly, "He does, and she's standing right behind you."  


A look of shock flashed across the doctor's face. "Oh bugger," he muttered. He turned around, his expression instantly turning into ‘bedside manner’. "And he's going to be absolutely fine, My Dear. Absolutely fine."

\---

She leaned over the bed rail and across his pillow. She watched over him, stroking his hair waiting patiently for him to come around from the anaesthesia. She was mad as fury with him but now wasn't the time.  


He began to stir, grimacing with pain. He opened his eyes. They struggled to focus but he knew who was there. "Hey Mrs. Gibbs," he managed to whisper.

"Hey Mr. Gibbs," she replied holding back tears of relief. She kissed his forehead as he fell back to sleep. He was indeed, just fine.  


\--  


Driving home the following day she finally felt confident that he was well enough for a telling off. "What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed."  


His expression told her he disagreed. "We finally got a lead on who's been intimidating you and Brenda and I didn't want to lose it. I guess I got a bit over eager, is all."  


"Is that what you're calling it? Over eager?" She asked sarcastically. She sighed loudly. "Is this what being a cop's wife is like? Is this why you're divorced so much? The constant worry? The fear?"  


"It had something to do with it, but not all. I'm not going to lie. The job's dangerous. But you already knew that."  


She shook her head. "There's a big difference between knowing something intellectually and knowing it emotionally. What if one day I'm not meeting Ducky at the hospital, but at his office.?"  


"Don't think about that," he advised.  


"I don't want to." "Then don't. The job is the job. It will not change. We both have to live with that. I've just had longer to get used to it I guess."  


She looked at him sadly. "I don't think I can ever get used to it. I hated seeing you in that bed."  


"Well it wasn't exactly a bowl of jello for me either you know. I'm glad we're going home now."  


"So am I.” She brightened, back in ‘practical mode’. I can set you up on the couch with a blanket and a coffee and a book and take care of you. Brenda will be okay running the store for a while."  


He looked across to her with raised eyebrows. He counted off on his fingers. "Couch, great. Coffee definitely. Blanket maybe. Book?" He shook his head. "I've got case files in the back of my car I need to go through."  


"But you're sick!" She protested.  


"No I'm not. I'm injured and only a little bit. There's nothing wrong with my brain. I can still think."  


"That, is a matter of opinion. Discussion over." She stated categorically.  


\---  


"So, you're telling me that Samuel is doing this?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "How? He's in prison."  


"Yes, yes he is." Gibbs assured her, taking her hand and holding it to his mouth. He stared intently into her eyes as he lightly kissed her fingers.  


"And he’s going to be there for a very long time. I promise you, there’s no need to worry about that.”  


Gibbs had managed to avoid talking about what was going on, but she had overheard a snippet of conversation and asked him outright. He sighed in frustration pursing his lips. Some head slapping was long overdue! But he couldn't lie. “What he's doing is somehow persuading other inmates who are getting out into doing this for him. That's why each attack is different, lasts for varying lengths of time and so on. We thought we'd got the latest one. I rushed it. I made a mistake and I got a new scar and two weeks desk duty to show for it. It won't happen again, I promise. I really didn't mean to scare you."

Tears started in her eyes. She had tried so hard not to let him see her upset. He reached for her gently and pulled her towards him, his arms encircling her. He winced slightly. "It's okay," he whispered. "See? I'm here, it's a minor wound. I'll take more care next time."  


"You're damned right you will!" She replied.  


He kissed the top of her head. "Come on, let's go to bed, I just want to lay next to you for a while - I hate hospital beds."

☆☆☆

"Hurry up will you - we've still got to meet Tobias." He was getting tired of waiting – the day was awasting.  


She fussed over yet another bag. "I just want to make sure we have first aid supplies. You know ... Just in case." He sighed, trying not to be impatient.  


"You're not going to be that bad. It's not difficult."  


"That's easy for you to say, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."  


"Okay, but come on, now. It's going to be great. The lake is lovely this time of year.  


\---  


They drove up towards the cabin stopping at the only convenience store for miles to wait for the Fornells. A trip to the cabin made a lot of sense while he convalesced. The cabin was secluded, quiet and most importantly, away from work. The Bullpen were grateful to her for suggesting it.  


Tobias had warned her that it wasn't exactly luxury accommodation but she didn't care - her man had literally built it with his own two hands. Her bag and precious first aid kit sat on the seat next to her as the back of the truck was full of tools. Each visit he added something new - a porch, plumbing, a stove. She calculated that they would have electricity in there by the time she was ninety.  


\---  


Gibbs swung the axe in a manly fashion. The log surrendered and fell into two halves. Fornell's voice was getting louder and higher with every sentence of his story.  


"And then ... then he goes and shoots me in the butt!"  


"Dad!" Emily protested.  


"What? I only said butt."  


"It could have been worse," his daughter pointed out. "He could have shot you in the head."  


"Sometimes I wish I had." Complained Gibbs as he swung the axe again and another log succumbed.  


"Oh hardy ha-ha," countered Fornell maturely. He watched his supposedly injured friend swing the axe yet again. Another log died a valiant and noble death.  


"When're you going to stop doing that - you're making me feel inadequate?" Fornell complained.  


"When we have enough. You're going home today, but we're staying at least the night.” Gibbs looked over the cabin with an expert eye. “I got more to do here."  


Fornell turned to her. "Him I can understand, but are you nuts? What d'you want to stay here for? It's not exactly bursting with creature comforts ... just creatures. Do you like bugs and coyotes?"  


She put on a long suffering air. "Will you stop exaggerating, Tobias. There aren't any coyotes and besides, I like the quiet, the lake and the company. What more do I need?"  


"See?" Said Gibbs, smuggly. "I told you I got it right this time." He put down the axe, gathered up the wood and took it into the cabin. He came back out with two fishing poles and a six pack of beer. He nodded towards the lake. "Come on Tobias, let's go catch some lunch."  


\---  


Emily had been waiting patiently all morning for a chance to broach a particular subject. The teenager sat down next to her nervously. "So, have you thought much about your wedding?” the teenager asked tentatively.

She smiled to herself. Fornell had warned them the subject would probably come up. Emily was apparently, very excited about the whole 'wedding thing'. Well good, the kid needed something fun and positive to focus on. "Of course I have!" She replied – expecting an excited conversation involving dresses, cakes and flowers.  


“Oh good,” Emily sounded relieved. “At least one of you has. Uncle Gibbs has not thought about it at all – and he of all people really should have.”  


She was surprised. “He hasn’t? It was his idea.”  


“Precisely!” declared Em. “And look what happened the last three times when he went off on some flight of fancy?”  


She wasn’t quite sure what the teenager was getting at but it didn’t sound very positive. “Are you saying he asked me on a whim?”  


Emily gasped. “No ... Well, yes actually. But it's not his fault." she added quickly. "Men just don’t think it through much. I mean look at my dad? He was just as bad. It takes us women to be practical about these things."  


She nodded suspiciously. “Okay ... so where is this going exactly?”  


Emily nodded, pleased with their progress. “I need you and Uncle Gibbs to think about a Prenup. Agreement.”  


The bride-to-be shook her head in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, a what?”  


“A Prenuptial Agreement – it’s a legally binding agreement where ...”  


“Yes, yes I know what it is but why would I do that? We don’t need one of those.”  


Emily sighed. “That’s exactly what Uncle Gibbs said.”  


“Oh I’m glad to hear it. When did you talk to him about it?”  


“A couple weeks ago. But he just shook his head, shoved his hands in his coat pockets and told me to talk to you.”  


“Oh he did, did he? Remind me to thank him for that.” She replied though gritted teeth.  


“I just think an Agreement would protect both of you, but especially him. He is so vulnerable when it comes to wives.”  


“That’s not a word I would use to describe Jethro at all.” She closed her eyes and shook her head to try and loosen the confusion. “I’m sorry, how old are you again? I thought you wanted to talk about bridesmaid dresses ...”  


“Oh I do,” replied Emily eagerly. “I have a few thoughts about that too.”  


“I bet you do,” she muttered under her breath.

“I won’t wear anything too baby-ish. No pink or lemon or mint or baby blue. And I'm not a big fan of red or green,” she flicked her ginger hair. “For obvious reasons. Will the dress have sleeves?”  


“I don’t know the right answer to that.” The bride answered, bemused.  


Emily tried to look bored with the whole idea in true teenage fashion but couldn't hold the pose for too long. She grinned wildly and threw her arms around her new aunt excitedly.  


"I really want to be a bridesmaid. I was hoping you two would get married. You make Uncle Gibbs so happy."  


"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You didn’t sound that pleased a minute ago."  


“Oh it’s not that. I just feel I need to look out for Uncle Gibbs some times. You know what he's like ...”  


“Yes you said – vulnerable.”  


\---  


The guys came walking back up from the lake, triumphantly. They held up the fish - Lunch would be served shortly and it only took two cans of beer each. A new lake record!  


From Emily’s excitement, they guessed what the conversation had been about. Gibbs met his fiance's eyes with just a hint of a smile.  


“You two have a nice talk?”  


“Oh yes,” she replied. “Very interesting.” _And I will get you back later,_ her eyes said. He just smiled more. A side ways glance flashing a rueful apology in her direction.  


"Oh good,” said Fornell. “Trust me, your wedding is all I've heard about since Christmas." Complained Fornell. "That and 'does a bridesmaid have to marry the groom if the bride runs away?’”  


Emily gasped and jumped up from where she was sitting. Her face was red with embarrassment and anger. "Dad!" She looked at Gibbs, clearly upset about her Dad's apparent betrayal, then turned on her heel and stormed quickly away. "You can be such a jerk sometimes, Dad!" She yelled over her shoulder. She stomped off towards the cabin, her arms folded petulantly. Gibbs looked concerned. He turned towards Fornell, a unspoken question across his face.  


"Relax.” Tobias reassured him. “She'll be back as soon as she smells lunch ... and if she wants to have a go with my gun this afternoon." He shouted after her. "Hey, Pumpkin, why the sudden mood?" They heard a scream from halfway up the hill.  


Gibbs snorted, "She's right you know, Tobias?"  


"What?"  


"You can be a real jerk sometimes " He stood and headed up the hill after his god-daughter.

He found Emily sitting on the porch picking the bark off one of the rails. "Hey, Em. You okay?" He asked. She screamed again in exasperation. She blushed heavily, turning away from him and continuing her bark picking. He sat down next to her.  


"Come on," he coaxed, nudging her gently with his elbow. "You and me, we don't have secrets. What's going on?" She shrugged.  


"Nothing."  


"Uh-huh,"  


"Well, if you must know ..."  


"Yeah ..."  


"I'm worried the wedding stuff is all going to go wrong."  


"What makes you think that?"  


Emily looked at him incredulously, "Err ... Hello? Four wives? One being my Mom? Come on Uncle Gibbs, get real! You really suck at the whole marriage thing."  


He tried not to laugh. _"Get real?! Really? From a sixteen year old?"_ "Well, I wasn't always so bad at 'the marriage thing'. My first one was good. Marrying your Mom and the others though? ... Yeah okay, you got me there. They were bad but for lots of different reasons. They're all really nice ladies though - yes, your Mom was too! But I didn't really love them the way I should've. This time is different."  


"How?"  


Gibbs thought back to an overheard conversation in the master bedroom. How could he explain that to anyone who wasn't there? He tapped his chest with his index finger. "I just know in my heart this time."  


He hoped his answer was enough. It seemed to be. Emily hugged him tightly. "Good, because I really didn't want to have to marry you. I love you and all Uncle Gibbs but sometimes, you're as bad as my Dad!" She kissed his cheek, got up and headed towards the smell of freshly grilled fish. He wasn't sure if he'd just been complimented or insulted.  


\---  


They'd found a wide, open space with good light. Perfect for the afternoon's activities. She'd been dreading it. For some reason, Gibbs felt the need to teach her. It was not her idea of fun, but he was insistent. It was a useful skill to have he figured. She couldn't have agreed less, but if it stopped him going on about it ...

Gibbs stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her and held her hands. He nibbled her ear before whispering, "Relax, slow your breathing down, take your time, calm thoughts. Tight grip but not too tight. That's it. That's it, when you’re ready, gently squeeze."  


She tried to follow his instruction but she was way out of her comfort zone. None of this came naturally – the way it did for him. She thought she was ready. She squeezed ... The gun went off. The recoil pushed her back into Gibbs. She let out a squeal of surprise and a nervous giggle. The gun was louder than she imagined it would be. She had no idea where the bullet had gone. He was chuckling at her. "That was okay, but next time try to fire it without the squeal - I'm deaf in that ear now."  


"I was just startled. I'll get better."  


"Ready for another go?" She nodded reluctantly.

He wrapped himself around her once more. "You smell good. We could just stay like this for a while."  


"You're the one who wanted me to do this." She reminded him  


"I know, I'm just getting a little distracted is all." He nuzzled her ear again and kissed behind it. Kissed her neck. He felt his body responding to her. The way she wiggled into him was not helping. He forced himself to think about baseball or filing or DiNozzo in his underwear - anything but what the rest of his body was thinking about. She made that little noise at the back of her throat. God, he loved that! She wasn't playing fair. "Stop that," he hissed, slapping her playfully on the butt.

"For Pete's sake, get a room you two!" Shouted Tobias. Gibbs cleared his throat and shook his head.  


"You're just jealous," he barked back.  


"Very true, but there are minors present ," countered Tobias pointing at his daughter.  


"Hey! Don't get me involved," snapped Emily, smashing three beer bottles with three shots. "I think old people kissing is gross."  


"And if that sentence didn't dampen your ardour nothing will," scoffed Fornell.  


\---  


The Fornells stayed with them until dusk before heading back to the city. Now, the pair sat in a contented silence outside the cabin, next to a fire. A beer each. He sat on a log, she sat on the floor between his knees, her head resting on his thigh. Occasionally, he stroked her hair. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the fire and the forest. Life was good. She broke the silence. "Can't we just stay here?"  


"Hmm?" He was miles away.  


"Can't we just stay here? Hide out so no one will find us. No work, no phones, no TV, no computers. Just the two of us."  


"With all the people who know about this?” Gibbs looked around the clearing. “It's not much of a hiding place these days."  


"But don't you feel like running away sometimes?"  


Gibbs shook his head. "Tried it once, it didn't last long. Life has a habit of catching up with you. This place is good for a little respite though. You had a good day?"  


She smiled contentedly. "Oh yeah. Great. I love listening to you and Tobias. The two of you are so funny together. You're more like brothers than friends."  


"Well we've been through a lot together. And Emily is a cool kid - far more mature than she should be for her years."  


"She is the grown up amongst the three of you sometimes!"  


Gibbs protested playfully, "Hey, that's not true. I can be very grown up when I have to be."  


"Care to move indoors and prove that?" She bit his thigh playfully.  


"Ow!" He stood up and held his hand out to help her up. He kicked dirt over the fire and led her towards the cabin.  


"I expect you to kiss that better."  


"I might," she said. "If you ask nicely ..."

****

  
****

***WARNING: EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT***

Gibbs sat on the cabin porch in his new rocking chair listening to the night critters waking for their day. "Practicing for your old age there are you? Shall I fetch your pipe and slippers?" she laughed.  


He smiled shyly. "No, I'm just really pleased with how this chair turned out. It's very comfortable. You should try it."  


"Oh, I plan to in a little while. You stay there for now."

She came out to join him on the porch, leaning against the rail. The moon was full and cast eerie shadows that danced around them. She looked up at the stars in wonder. "Look at that," she exclaimed. "The sky is just beautiful out here. ... " She took a deep breath of clean, mountain air and sighed it out contentedly. "You know, they say the moon makes people do crazy things."  


"Oh?" He asked with an amount of trepidation. "Should I be worried?"  


"I don't know. Have you locked my gun away? I might decide to practice some more."  


"Well, I'm safe in that case - you couldn't hit a barn door if you were leaning against it,” Gibbs replied. They both laughed. She really had been that bad. 

"I was thinking of something even crazier than that!" She teased.  


"Really?" He asked nervously.  


“Oh, yeah,” she replied. She stood before him in the moonlight. Very deliberately, very slowly, she undid her belt and jeans and let them slide to the floor. He made to get up out of the chair – reaching for her eagerly.  


"No, no." She instructed. "You stay right there."  


He looked around anxiously.  


"Relax," she said. "There's no-one around here for miles - you said so yourself."  


"Knowing my luck this is when Tobias shows up looking for his house keys."  


She put a finger to his lips. "Hush now, I want you to watch me."

He kissed her finger and smiled broadly. "Oh, I like the sound of that ... a lot." He declared eagerly.

The moon was high. He could see her figure silhouetted in its light. She pulled her shirt up over her head and shook her hair free from its tie. It cascaded down to her waist shimmering silver in the moon's glow. He was utterly mesmerised. She shrugged her bra from her shoulders and with a final, wiggle of her hips her underwear landed on the porch with the rest of her clothes. She stood naked before him in the cool forest air. Her skin tingled with anticipation in the soft breeze, wild and free. She walked slowly across to him leaning over for a kiss. Gibbs reached out to touch her but she caught his hands quickly. "No, no. I'm running the show this evening, Mister. We do it my way so you can’t touch me yet."  


He smiled with delight. His eyes sparkled. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

She placed his hands back on the chair, held them there and leaned in for a kiss. As he opened his mouth he felt the faintest touch of her lips before they fluttered away from him. She let go of his hands and instead reached for his face. A fleeting touch of her lips again before she denied him the much needed kiss. It was driving him insane with desire.  


She knelt before him and unbuttoned his shirt and pants. He was so aroused he was ready to beg. She leaned forward and sucked him into her mouth for one sublime, breath taking moment before she stood over him once again. "Rock the chair back a little." Dazed, confused, he didn't understand for a second. She tried again. "Trust me. Tilt the chair back ... That's it."  


She stepped across his waist and with her legs through the back of the chair, lowered herself onto his lap. His moan was low and desperate. He filled his mouth with her breast. She held his head to her a moment before she planted her feet flat on the floor and began to rock the chair - back and forth, back and forth.  


Gibbs looked up at her in shock. The sensations causing through him were sudden and intense. She tightened and relaxed around him with every rocking motion. His head against her shoulder, his eyes closed, he struggled for breath as the intensity of her movements increased tenfold. The world around him gradually reducing until the only thing left to him were her scent and the feel of her soft skin against his. And still the chair rocked back and forth, back and forth.  


He wrapped his arms tightly around her and lay his head against her chest. His breath grew shorter, his moans louder. He looked up at her with pleading, intense eyes. “You have to let me kiss you. You have to. I need to. This is too much.”  


She leaned into his ear. "Soon, My Love. Soon, she whispered. “But first, I have to come for you."  


She pushed against the chair a little faster. He gasped as her body turned up the heat. He buried his face in her hair grazing her neck with his teeth. “My god, what are you doing to me?” he pleaded. “I can’t wait much longer. You have to let me take you. You have to let me, soon.”  


Her breathing was turning into short gasps as she listened to him beg for mercy. She felt powerful and strong knowing he could plead all he liked but it was all up to her. She fought her own need to kiss him. She ran her fingers through his hair. She gazed longingly into his eyes. He wrapped his arms tightly around her afraid she might stop.  


Her consciousness focused further and further inward - down into her very core and the steadily increasing ecstasy. She cried out with every movement within her. The world around her ceased to exist. There was only the rocking chair and their bodies locked together. Her breathing was fast and shallow. Her movements becoming more erratic. It wouldn't be long now. 

With an explosive cry of triumph, her last link with reality snapped and she flew fully into orgasm. She clung to the back of the chair for extra leverage. Her head pressed against his, she yelled at the moon at the moment of release grinding her hips onto his lap. Her body shuddering with every wave of unrelenting pleasure. 

She lay exhausted against him trying to breath. Her arms still around his shoulders. Her head against his. He leaned forward, holding her to him. His arms still tightly around her, he kissed her neck. He whispered sweet nothings and stroked her hair as she gradually came down from her high. He ran his fingernails down her spine. She gasped at their sudden sharpness. He smiled and kissed her neck. He held onto her hips as he changed position slightly. And this time, he rocked the chair.  


Within seconds she was back where she was - grinding down onto him, mewling, crying and laughing almost to the point of hysteria. She was so tight around him he felt every ripple as her second orgasm came fast and unexpected. She gasped in shock as her entire body trembled around him. He held her close.  
“That’s my girl,” he cooed. “That’s my good girl. I’m all yours.” She continued to hold him deep within her. She was oblivious now to everything but his body. She finally kissed him. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled his mouth towards her’s. Their lips crushed together. She bit his lip in the frenzy - the salty tang on both their tongues and finally, his resolve snapped. It had to be now. Right now. He gasped for air and clung to her as the Universe went spinning away from him. He joined her in her laughter and tears, his heart racing. They clung to each other in the dark contentedly. Each kissing and exploring the other tenderly. He looked up at her. Her face was a picture of contentment. She nuzzled into his neck in subdued, quiet fulfilment.

Eventually, he helped her climb her way out of the chair, and he out of his tangled clothing. The stood arm in arm on the porch once again staring at the sky. He felt like he was in a dream world somewhere.  


She sighed happily. “Beautiful.”  


“Yes, I know.” She turned to see he was not looking at the sky at all. Gibbs nodded towards the heavens, “The sky too.”  


She looked shyly at him, suddenly bashful. His heart started to beat thunderously. He was still hypersensitive to her mouth, her sound, her scent. He lowered his head to kiss her. Tentatively at first and then increasing in confidence. He was finally allowed to kiss her the way he wanted and when he did, he had no desire to stop.  


He devoured her. Her mouth captured with his. His tongue owned her. He pushed her further against the porch rail trapping her against it with his body. He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, desperately, drowning in her taste. His mouth crushed hers as his hunger grew in intensity. He desperately needed more of her and soon.  


He gave in, spun her round and leaned her over the porch rail. He ran his fingernails gently down her spine. He smiled with satisfaction as goose bumps raised along their path. He reached for her hips and thrust swiftly inside her. He stood still for a moment, aware of nothing but her body around and against him. He ran his fingers down her side, their tips brushing against her breast. She pushed against him in invitation. He didn’t need asking twice. His pace increased quickly. Her sounds encouraging and arousing. He felt like a wild animal acting on pure instinct. His body slammed into hers urgently. He grabbed her around her waist and held her tightly to him as his body convulsed repeatedly into her; a cry of satisfaction before he finally collapsed, sated, against her.  


He kissed her shoulder and back then turned her around and kissed her neck. Finally, their lips met. He cradled her head in both hands and kissed her deeply, relishing the feel of her whole body against his. Their surroundings started to come back into focus a little. Still clinging to each other. He cleared his throat - testing to see if his vocal chords were working.  


"My God, where did you learn that?" He managed to whisper. She smiled playfully.  


"I read it in a smutty book last time I went to Philly." He raised his eyebrows in faux shock. "Well, I have to do something when I'm away!” She laughed gleefully, “Why d’you think I asked you to make a rocking chair?" She smiled coyly. "Did you like it?" He rolled his eyes at her.

_What a ridiculous question!_ "That, was incredible,“ he gasped, “and I'll never be able to look at that chair in the same light again.”  


"Good!” She giggled and held him close. You know, I think I like outdoor sex. It's very liberating." Gibbs kissed the top of her head suddenly mute once more. His whole body fizzing with energy. _No argument there!_ He thought to himself, a satisfied smile across his lips.

She pulled away from his grasp and stretched her body. The moon still highlighting her every curve. "I'm hot" she declared.  


"You can say that again!" He agreed.  


"No, I mean I'm hot - as in not cold. Come on ..." She grabbed his hand and started towards the lake.  


"You gotta be kidding me," he protested. "I haven't been skinny dipping in must be 40 years."  


"I've never done it." She said leading the way. "They kinda frown at that sort of thing at Frog Pond."  


"Well in that case ..." He picked her up over his shoulder and ran full pelt into the lake. The water was cold enough to make her squeal. For a while, the rest of the world was far, far away. They were simply two lovers at play.  


Eventually, they made their way back to the cabin to dry off. They sat next to a roaring fire with a tin cup of bourbon each. The contended silence between them restored. Finally, wrapped in each others arms in a sleeping bag they gave in to sleep.  


\---  


She dozed in truck as he drove them home. As he glanced across at her his tongue played with the small cut on his lip. The sharp little pain brought the previous night flashing vividly across his mind. It made it suddenly very difficult to concentrate on the road. The truck swerved and woke her.  


Gibbs cleared his throat “Didn’t mean to wake ya.” He pointed out of the window. “Critter on the road. Had to miss him.”  


She stretched her body. It ached deliciously and she was sure she would find a splinter somewhere that would be hard to explain. Wordlessly, she reached for his hand. He brought her fingers to his lips as they drove, smiling over a secret shared.


	9. Gifts

**Chapter Nine - Gifts**

"Why good morning, Agent Gibbs. How are you today?" Said Brenda fluttering her eyelashes maniacally at him. 

"I'm well thank you, Brenda and you?" He answered courteously. 

"Oh, much better for seeing you, Sugar." she replied. 

He smiled self- consciously. _She was kidding, right?_ “What would you like me to do today?” he asked.

Brenda looked him up and down hungrily, “Oh, I have a list ... “

Gibbs gave a nervous laugh. “No, really. What else would you like me to do today?" 

"Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying,” Brenda sighed. “Workwise, I guess it's more of the same - Baseboards, doors and windows. It doesn't seem very exciting." 

"Trust me,” Gibbs replied, “it feels good to get away from the bad guys for a while and do something positive. We'll have this place looking great in no time." 

"Oh, it already does," She sighed, winked at him again and hurried down the stairs to let the others in.

"Hey Gibbs, you upstairs?" Called Abby.

"Thank God." He exclaimed as Abby joined him. "I think Brenda's eyelashes were about ready to pounce. You gotta protect me from her!" 

"Get used to it, Gibbs," Abby advised. "You have this effect on women."

"I do not!" He protested, incredulously. Then he stopped ... _She was kidding, right?_

  


\---  


"Oh Agent Gibbs, Honey, would you be an angel and take this home with you? You'll be seeing my boss before I do." 

Brenda handed him a parcel that had arrived in the morning mail. A small box wrapped in pale blue paper and blue string. 

_"Why does that feel familiar?"_ He wondered. An alarm was going off very faintly, somewhere in his head. He shook the box gently. Something inside made a dull thudding noise against the side. He was just being paranoid, he decided. He put the box on the chair next to his jacket, shrugged himself out of his suspicions and got back on with his carpentry.

☆☆☆

The mystery box was driving him nuts. What was it at the back of his mind? Something about blue paper? Two days of mulling it over, rattling the box (at least he could say with some confidence that it wasn't a bomb). The inside of his skull itched and he just couldn't scratch it. Finally, he could take no more. He took the box to work for Abby.  


\---  


"You know that's a federal offense right - tampering with somebody else's mail?" Explained Abby as she studied the outside of the package carefully.

"So you can arrest me if I'm wrong," Gibbs said irritably. "I’m telling ya – There's definitely something hinky about this." 

Abby trusted Gibbs’ gut as much as he did. If he said it was hinky, then hinky it was. "Okay, I'll do an x-ray and go from there. I'll let you know if I find anything ... for my usual fee of course." Gibbs kissed Abby's cheek, left the Caff-Pow! bucket on her work bench and headed back to the Bullpen and paperwork.  


\---  


Gibbs' phone rang. He flipped it open without looking up from the file he was reading.

"Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs," Abby's urgent voice poured out of the ear piece.

"Whatcha got, Abbs?" He asked in the traditional manner. 

Abby sounded distressed. "Get down here Gibbs and hurry!" He was in the elevator before she'd finished her sentence.  


\---  


Abby stood in her lab – eyes closed, arms outstretched. In her right hand she held a pair of forceps. She looked as though she were about to conduct a macabre invisible orchestra. Gibbs reached around her waist from behind her, directing the Caff-Pow! bucket towards her free hand. Without opening her eyes, she grabbed it and began to drink. She took a deep calming sigh, checked that Gibbs was paying attention and then began  
.  
"Okay, so I x-rayed the box and found this little bugger," she explained, poking at the mummified remains of a rat with the forceps. “Beneath the rat I found this.” She tapped at a sheet of blue note paper on her work bench. It read, "Cinders will never marry her Prince." The words were made of letters cut from children's books. She wasn't particularly impressed with the workmanship.

"Very old school these days, Gibbs. I mean, where have they been for the last twenty years? Why not just print something less traceable?" asked Abby to the room. 

Pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together. Gibbs’ heart began to race as realisation dawned. His complexion paled. 

Abby was alarmed by his sudden change. "Gibbs, you okay?" She grabbed him by the shoulders. "Gibbs, you don't look so good. Is it your heart? Shall I get Ducky? Gibbs?" But he was already out of the door.  


\---  


"McGee, find me everything you can on Harold Everett." He barked. McGee tapped diligently at his computer keyboard.

"Here you go Boss ... Harold Everett aka Harry Taylor or Harry Meyer. The Baltimore media dubbed him 'The Fairy Tale Killer' by the way he chose his victims – each bore a resemblance to fairy tale characters. Each victim was studied and stalked for a number of weeks before the attack and received 'gifts' ..." 

The younger agent stopped suddenly and looked at his supervisor. Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment. He already knew what McGee had found. His memory had served him too well.

"Cat got your tongue there, McHesitation?" Chided DiNozzo. 

"N ... No." Said McGee. He looked at Gibbs. "Boss, this is bad."

"I know, keep going." He replied.

"Come on Tim, let's hear it," Bishop pushed - picking up on Gibbs concern. McGee cleared his throat and continued. 

"Victims were studied and stalked beforehand and sent gifts and notes sent in high quality blue note paper. They often contained cryptic messages or threats." 

He looked up from his computer. The others were looking at him aghast. All three turned to Gibbs.

"When is she back from Boston?" Asked Tony quietly. 

"The day after tomorrow." 

"It can't be the same guy, surely? Didn't he get put away forever?" Bishop questioned. 

"He was released early on medical grounds after serving seventeen of a twenty two year sentence." Read McGee. He looked at Gibbs. "Boss, he's been out since May." 

"We gotta get this creep." Said Tony. 

"D'ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs snapped sarcastically. "And we gotta keep her away from DC without her knowing why." He headed up the stairs towards Vance's office.  


\---  


"I thought this was over," Bishop sighed. "What could Samuel possibly offer in payment to someone whose already on the outside?" 

"His ex-wife," McGee answered. "That's all Everett would want. I really don't want to think about why."

DiNozzo had been typing away at his computer. He jotted an address down and handed it to McGee. “Grab your gear, McGee. We're going to visit Mr. Everett for a little chat.”

“What d'you want me to do?” Bishop asked nervously.

“You're job is easy, my dear Eleanor.” DiNozzo grinned. He nodded his head towards the upper floor. “You just have to keep Gibbs occupied for the rest of the day.”

“What?! How am I supposed to do that?” Ellie hissed.

“Think of something.” Suggested Tony unhelpfully. “Would you rather he followed us and ‘accidentally’ put Everett in the hospital?”  


\---  


Everett should have already been in the hospital. Gibbs would have been doing him a favour. 

DiNozzo and McGee pulled up to a nondescript single storey, low rent, 4 room dwelling in an equally nondescript, low rent area of the less affluent part of Baltimore. DiNozzo wrinkled his nose at the under lying odour of uncollected refuse and over-ripe cooking. “This place hasn’t changed much,” he complained as the two men walked confidently to a door with a cracked window and peeling paintwork.

Tony knocked loudly on the door. The two men waited. He hammered louder with the side of his fist. “NCIS – open the door Everett, we know you're in there.”

He was about to try a third time when a bolt could be heard sliding across the door frame. The door opened very slightly. McGee slid his foot surreptitiously into the gap.

The agents held up their badges. “My name is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and this is Special Agent Timothy McGee. We're from the DC offices of NCIS. We'd like to talk to you about someone you may have met in prison. May we come in?”

The occupant kicked McGee's foot. “Seemed to me you're already in.” He turned around and shuffled further into the building. “Close the door behind you, son.” He yelled over his shoulder. 

The house was poorly lit and smelled distinctly of mould, stale beer and urine. The man before them shuffled toward the main living area. It housed a hospital style bed – a box containing a half eaten pizza balanced precariously on one side; a high backed chair; a TV and a dialysis machine. Everett sat down heavily in the chair. He reached down and picked up an oxygen mask from under it.  
“How can I help you fellas?” asked the old man from behind the mask.  


\---  


The front door opened unannounced. A well built man in a nurses uniform came through it carrying a bag of groceries. “I’m sorry Mr. Everett, I didn’t know you had company.” He looked at the two agents suspiciously “Is everything okay here?” 

Everett nodded. “These gentlemen were just enquiring about my prison days. I've just told them I can’t help them. I don’t know the guy they're talking about.” 

The carer put down the groceries. “That's a shame,” he commented without much enthusiasm. Reluctantly he added, “Can I offer you gentlemen some coffee.”

“No, that’s quite all right.” Said DiNozzo, We were just leaving, Mr ...?” 

“Williams, Roy Williams. I am Mr. Everett’s carer. My colleague and I look after Mr Everett 24 hours a day. I was about to ask you to move aside as it’s time for his treatment.”

“In that case we are definitely leaving,” said McGee. “Thank you for your time Mr. Everett.” The two men left the old man to his treatment. They sat in the car for a few moments. “There's no way that old man can threaten anybody.” Said DiNozzo. “I mean look at him? He can barely walk.” 

“So are you thinking copycat or apprentice?” asked McGee.

“Could be either.” replied Tony ruefully. He started the car. ”The boss ain't gonna like it whichever way you look at it.  


\---  


I don't think she'll take this well when she finds out." Said Bishop.

"Then she's not gonna to find out," Gibbs barked as he jogged back down the stairs. "We need to get this bastard quickly and quietly and we only have two days to do it. If not, we'll have to go with Plan B." 

"Plan B, Boss?" 

"Need to know, Bishop. Need to know.” 

☆☆☆

"I need a Plan B," Gibbs said as he poured bourbon into an empty coffee cup and two glass jars. Dr. Mallard took a polite sip and pulled a disgusted face. 

"I really have to do something about your taste in liquor, Jethro." 

Fornell placed an apologetic hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Sorry, Doc. I should have brought something decent with me." 

"Oh that's quite all right Special Agent Fornell, I have to drive home anyway.” He turned towards Gibbs. “Now what's this about a Plan B, Jethro?"

Gibbs took a large mouthful of bourbon and swallowed hard. The bronze coloured liquid chased the words from his mouth. "I don't hold out much hope of getting Everett’s apprentice/copycat/whatever before she gets in Boston. If they've studied Everett well they'll be anticipating every move he would make and our response. They'll be as methodical as the original and too damned careful," said Gibbs.

"Well maybe that is their weakness," suggested Dr Mallard. "If they are emulating their ‘hero’, it all has to go exactly the way they plan. Don’t forget how Everett was caught after all?" 

"Yeah," Tobias chipped in. "He was working on his Rapunzel and the woman cut her hair. It threw him a real curve ball and he had to improvise - it all went wrong from there. And now 17 years later, here we are, sitting in this basement, drinking lousy bourbon and discussing it."

"Well maybe that's the way to catch this new version?" Suggested Ducky. "Force him to have to go against all that he’s learned. Make him improvise. He'll be even worse at it than Everett – as his ‘hero’ never worked out what to do either. He will be completely clueless. That’s when he'll make mistakes. That's when we'll get him." 

"But how are we going to change the story?" Fornell asked. 

Gibbs looked up from his drink, an idea becoming clearer by the second. "I know how.” He stood straight and stretched out his neck and shoulders. Loosening some of the tension, he began to feel more confident. “His note said 'Cinders will never marry her Prince', right?" They nodded. "Well what's he going to do if she does?"

"When?" The other two asked in unison.¹

"Tomorrow, when she lands. I'll pick her up at the airport, we go straight to City Hall from there and we get married. Fairytale’s M.O. totally screwed within an hour. Done. Then we just have to wait for him to crawl out from under his rock." 

"How are you going to convince her to do that?" Asked Tobias.

"No idea - but I will because I have to.”

☆☆☆

He met her at the arrivals gate. She hadn't been expecting him and was delighted. Her smile beamed at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly. She didn't care who was watching. As a result, she didn't notice Tobias talking to his cufflinks or the ‘tourist’ taking photographs of them. "Hey you, Whatcha doing here?" 

He looked down at her warmly. "I can't bunk off work to meet you now?" 

"No, I just thought I would see you at home, that's all. It's a lovely surprise." She hugged him closer. His body felt tight and stressed. "What's the matter? You're so tense? Is everything okay?" 

He tried to shrug off her questions. "Just a bad time at work. I had to get away for a while." 

She smiled suggestively at him. "Well I might have the perfect cure for that. Where's the car?" 

He couldn't help but laugh. She was always like this when she'd been away! "I'm sure you do but I have to drop by the office first. There's something very important we need to do.”  


\---  


He was barking orders as soon as the elevator doors opened. His sudden change in persona was always fascinating - Jethro stepped onto the elevator and Special Agent Gibbs stepped off it.  


"McGee, anything yet?" 

"Nothing, Sir. No movement. No phone activity. He's a sick old man, Boss. Maybe, this is just a bluff?" McGee suggested. 

"No, it doesn't feel like that," Gibbs replied. His gut was rarely wrong and he wasn't going to risk not believing it now. "Okay, Plan B it is." He muttered to himself. He took a deep breath, then raised his voice. "Good work McGee, keep at it." 

He turned towards Tony. "DiNozzo put your tie back on. Bishop go get changed into your street clothes and meet us in the lobby," he ordered gruffly. 

He turned and strode purposefully to his desk, unlocked the top drawer, reached for something and placed it in his inside pocket. Slamming the drawer shut, he took her hand and headed back towards the elevator at double quick pace. "Where are we going in such a hurry?" She asked. 

He guided her into the elevator. The doors closed behind them. He waited for a few seconds and then flicked the ‘emergency stop’ switch. The elevator car lurched to a halt. "City Hall," he replied.

“Whatever for?" she asked nervously. 

Gibbs took her hands in his and kissed her fingertips gently. "I'm not waiting another day, another minute longer. I want to be married to you right now." She stopped dead in her tracks. 

"What? Have you gone totally crazy? Jethro, what's going on?" 

"Nothing. I've just been thinking a lot while you've been gone. There is never going to be a right time when we can get everyone together. There's always going to be something going on - like today." He added, gesturing up towards the Squad Room. "We'd be waiting forever and I can't do that. Not anymore. It has to be today. It has to be right now." 

"But ... but people are expecting a big day and a fancy ceremony. I've only just started putting it all together. They'll be dreadfully disappointed." She was so confused. He seemed so desperate. 

"We can do all that later. But I want you to be my wife, right now. Today. No more waiting." He knew he was frightening her but it had to be done. "I want to wear a ring on my finger and know that it represents you and that you're always with me." He held her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. 

"Babe please, this is very important to me. We only need two witnesses. We'll do the rest later I promise. But please come with me now." His eyes pleaded silently to her. Something told her he was deadly serious. This was the most important thing he would ever ask of her. Confused, worried, scared, she nodded. 

"Okay, if it is that important to you, let’s go.” She set the elevator going again. Suddenly she asked, “What about wedding rings, we'll need something?"

He smiled a little coyly, "Oh, I bought those at the same time as your engagement ring." He replied.  


"You were that sure I would say yes huh?" She smiled despite herself. 

He shrugged. "Well, mostly. They've been in my desk drawer ever since."  


\---  


Bishop came trotting up to them in the lobby. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"  


"We're going to City Hall to get married, we need two witnesses and you'll do," said Gibbs succinctly.

"Nice to know we’re thought of so highly Boss," DiNozzo quipped.  


"Well, it was either you or Sandra from the coffee cart but she had a queue." He replied.

"Seriously Boss," Ellie interjected, "We are both very honoured. But why the sudden rush, Sir?" 

"He's pregnant and my Dad says I have to marry him before he begins to show." She said, deadpan.

Gibbs smiled, pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you," he whispered. 

Emily laughed - It was a good comeback, but she also realised that something else was going on. Something perhaps, not so good. So this was Plan B, she realised.  


\---  


"See here? These rings have a Celtic knot around them just like my carving." He explained. "A Celtic knot has no beginning and no end. Look?" He ran his finger around the ring. "It symbolises eternity - no beginning, no end. I hope you like it. I got one for each of us." 

"They're beautiful." She replied and kissed him tenderly. They sat in the waiting room until their names were called. She clung tightly to his arm, convinced something bad was going to happen at any minute.  


\---  


She had tried to guess as they drove. Was he sick? Was he being sent somewhere dangerous? Was someone else sick? He denied it all. DiNozzo made jokes to avoid getting involved and Ellie just looked as concerned as she did. The car stopped at a set of lights. Tony wound the window down and bought a single rose from a street vendor. "Every bride has to have a bouquet," he said as he handed it to her. 

She clutched the rose now as she said her vows. She shed a tear as he said his. This was certainly very different to the way she had imagined. It would certainly make a good story some day ... as soon as she knew what the hell was going on.

"Hello Mrs. Gibbs," he said softly as he took her in his arms. 

"Hello Mr. Gibbs," she replied wrapping her arms around his neck. 

As he kissed his bride Ellie threw a handful of rice she had finagled from a woman in the waiting room. The clerk at the desk tutted and tapped a sign forbidding rice in the office. "We have mice," she explained for the umpteenth time that day. Ellie mouthed an apology and gave a small shrug. They left City Hall, picked up the car, drove DiNozzo and Bishop back to the office and went home.  


\---  


And that was that. It was all over. She sat on the couch somewhat dazed. The luggage from her trip north still sitting at the bottom of the staircase. She'd woken up that morning a girlfriend and had come home this evening, a wife. And not even a glass of champagne to show for it. 

"Well, at least he took the rest of the day off." She thought. At which point Gibbs announced he had to go out for a couple of hours, pecked her on the cheek and headed for the door. What the ...? She thought as the front door slammed firmly shut behind him.

☆☆☆

Gibbs marched confidently into the prison visitors area. It was late. Official visiting hours were long over. A guard escorted Samuel into the prisoner area. They were separated by the standard pane of bullet proof glass

As Samuel watched, Gibbs took an envelope from his jacket pocket. From the envelope he took a sheet of paper and unfolded it carefully. He leaned forward and slammed the marriage license against the glass. He held it there long enough for Samuel to read it. Gibbs watched the blood drain from the man's face. He smiled inwardly in satisfaction. 

He picked up the intercom receiver. His eyes drilled into the prisoner with such ferocity that Samuel actually flinched. Gibbs' expression was cold, calm, yet full of rage. "She's mine now. You lost. Your harassment will stop right now. If you EVER threaten my wife again, I will end you. Are we clear?" Their eyes met across the glass. Samuel, clearly shaken out of his usual smugness. Gibbs stared, steely and determined. 

"Are. We. Clear?" He asked once more. 

"Yes, we're clear." Came the reply. 

Gibbs stood, satisfied with the answer. He replaced the paper carefully into its envelope and put it back into his pocket. He turned away and called for the guard to let him out of the visitors room. He had to get away from the stench. He had to get home to his wife.

☆☆☆

"Where the hell have you been?" She yelled as he came through the front door. She was upset, he could understand that. "I don't understand, Jethro. Why all the mystery and running around? We get married and then you just leave on some stupid errand? I know something is seriously wrong here but I can't figure out what." Tears started to well. She looked so lost. "Jethro please?"

This was not what he wanted on their wedding night. He had been so selfish to push her into this so suddenly. But he had meant every word - He wanted to be hers. He took her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. "Look, I can't explain yet, but I will. I ask you to trust me until then, can you do that for me?" 

She nodded weakly. She was too exhausted and confused to push the issue. She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. His arms automatically wrapped around her. He took her left hand in his. Their rings shone new in the fire light. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her wedding ring. "I never thought I would want this so much again. I can't tell you how honoured I feel." He turned her hand over and kissed her wrist. Then he pulled her towards him and kissed her mouth. A long lingering kiss full of tenderness. 

"Come to bed with me Mrs Gibbs," he said softly. "I want to leave the rest of the world behind for a while.”  


\---  


She slept fitfully in his arms. Her subconscious mind clearly working overtime to make some sense of the day. Gibbs slid his arm from under her and climbed out of bed. He checked his gun in the night stand and the back up hidden in the bathroom. He peered carefully outside through the drapes in the bedroom. All looked quiet. The world was apparently asleep. He let out a deep breath to try to calm his somersaulting gut. Then he climbed back into bed, slid his arm back under her and tried to sleep.


	10. And So It Begins ...

**Chapter 10 - And So It Begins ...**

She awoke to the smell of coffee and breakfast. As good as that was she didn't want to leave the bed. Her mind was filled with the bizarre events of the day before. If she got up she’d have to try and make sense of it all. She stared at the ring that sat comfortably on her finger. Perhaps he would explain it over breakfast. 

She stretched lazily across the bed. She could still feel his body heat against her. Still smell his musk. She sighed contentedly. And then sat up abruptly as she realised that that was because he was still lying beside her ...

Gibbs stirred with her sudden movement. He stretched, scratched, yawned, rubbed his face. "Did you make breakfast for me Babe?"

"No, I thought you made breakfast for me." She hissed.

He was instantly alert. He rolled from the bed and grabbed his sweat pants from the chair. Very quietly he took his gun from the night stand drawer. "Stay here," he whispered authoritatively. With an emphasising finger he rasped, "Do. Not. Move."

She sighed at him - He could win medals for over-reacting sometimes. "Oh don’t be so ridiculous. What kind of burglar makes their victims breakfast? It's somebody we know."

With that, she got out of bed, put on her nightgown and headed towards the stairs. Gibbs hissed at her to come back. She ignored him. He ran after her and quickly took point, shielding her with his body. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he recognised the silhouette in front of him. He straightened and sighed theatrically.

"Tobias? What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled.

Fornell turned. He was midway through serving up bacon he had just fried. He wore the frilled apron that had hung on the wall in the kitchen for nearly 30 years. He didn't think it's owner would mind and he didn't want to get grease on his new shirt.

"Well there you are!" He smiled widely at the two of them. "I was wondering when you two love birds were going to get out of bed."

"Tobias, WHAT are you doing here?" Gibbs repeated indignantly.

Fornell talked as he scooped bacon onto a plate. "Well, I heard you got married yesterday and even though I wasn't your best man - when I distinctly heard you tell me that I would be," Gibbs rolled his eyes. "I thought I would come over here, out of the kindness of my heart, and make you breakfast." He stood proudly to attention, spatula in hand. "And might I say, New Mrs. Gibbs, you look positively radiant this morning." He bowed and kissed her hand. He couldn't help but notice the way the satin nightgown clung to the soft curves of her body. Gibbs spotted the look too.

"Hey!" He glared at his friend in annoyance. "Eyes to the floor, Fornell."

"Oh will you two stop." She chastised. She took a glass of orange juice from the table and kissed Tobias on the cheek. "Thank you," she said. "It's a lovely thought." She picked the crunchiest looking piece of bacon from the plate. "I'm going to hit the shower, you boys play nice."

As soon as they heard the water running they felt it safe to break cover. "Does she suspect anything?" Fornell asked. 

"Only that you're a dirty old man."

"What?"

"I saw you looking at her ... her ..." Gibbs motioned with his hands in front of his chest as his words ran out.

"I couldn't help it. They were right there and ... well ... it's been a while, and all in satin and lace like that ..." He sighed.

"I will punch you," Gibbs threatened darkly.

"Oh come on, we're all adults here. You have to admit, your wife is quite, quite lovely." He closed his eyes for a second in appreciation.

"I am not discussing that with you!" Gibbs snapped. There was a pause while he slowed his breathing, pinched the bridge of his nose and try to calm down. "Did your surveillance team see anything last night?" he asked Fornell. 

Tobias shrugged. "Nothing unusual. They did report hearing 'strange moo-ing noises' during the night but no suspicious activity." Fornell answered with a wink of his eye. 

Gibbs rubbed his temple. His headache was back and wearing a frilly apron. "Will you just stop, already." He pleaded.

"What? Making you uncomfortable? Never. It's far too much fun. Still, it's nice to know there's still steam in the boiler even for a man of your age. It gives me hope."

"What's that supposed to mean - a 'man of my age'? I'm younger than you!"

"And you would never guess that from looking at you." Sparred Fornell.

Gibbs forced himself not to take the bait. "Enough now. You've had your fun.”

“Just making up for the lack of bachelor party.” Tobias added. 

Gibbs stared his friend in the eye. “Can we get serious for just one minute?"

"About what?" She asked as she came down the stairs. The two men looked at each other in a moment of panic. _Damn, they hadn't been paying attention._  


She sat down at the breakfast table. Tobias cleared his throat, trying to give himself time to find a credible answer. "About how the FBI is going to send you guys on an impromptu honeymoon." She looked up at him suspiciously. "Shall I make you some eggs and toast My Dear, while I explain?" He offered.  


The two men stared at each other. _"This had better be good!"_ Gibbs glared at him. Tobias continued. "Jethro and I ran a joint op a while ago - I can't say much I'm afraid - classified. You know the sort of thing."  


_"The old 'classified' ploy - works every time,"_ thought Gibbs ruefully.  


"Anyway, part of it has re-surfaced in New Orleans. It won't take much to clear up. Maybe a day or two at most. The FBI have chartered a jet. I was supposed to go but I managed to convince the Higher Ups that as it was Jethro's lead he should be the one to go ..."

She beamed - A private jet for a honeymoon (of sorts)? How fantastic! "Why thank you Tobias. That was very thoughtful of you."  


“Yes, I thought so too.” He gestured at Gibbs with his spatula. “But what thanks do I get?”  


Gibbs stood, hands on hips, looking at the ceiling. _“He’s enjoying this way too much,”_ he thought. He sighed to himself. Coffee. He needed more coffee if he was going to get through this. Tobias continued while his friend stomped moodily around the kitchen. 

"Gibbs will have to go into the office with King for a while, but you could find somewhere to have lunch, or a spa or a pedicure or something. And afterwards, you can have a nice sorta honeymoon. A little wine, a little music, a little dancing." He looked at Gibbs "In his case, very little dancing."  


"Hey, I dance," said Gibbs defensively. "You've seen me."  


"If that's what you want to call it, yes," Tobias countered. He turned back to her, "... and beads ... you'd do very well with the beads."  


Gibbs hit his friend on the arm. "Hey, what did I tell you before?"

Fornell put down two plates of eggs and toast. Acting all offended, he pulled the apron off and picked up his jacket. He kissed her cheek. "Well, I know when I'm not appreciated. I will leave you to finish your breakfast with this grumpy old fart and see you at the airfield in a couple of hours."

He left by the back door so he could check one last time around the exterior of the house. He waved last night's surveillance team away and got into his car. He'd wait until they left for the airfield. He knew Gibbs would take the long way to give him time to meet them and appear as if he'd been waiting.

So far, so good.

☆☆☆

"So how did you guys meet?" asked Loretta over her Bloody Mary. The newlyweds looked at each other searching one another's faces for the right response. It was hardly a romantic story. Not one to tell at social gatherings at any rate. 

Gibbs decided to be vague."Oh we've known each other for years." But that was clearly not going to wash.  


She took Gibbs' hand and added, "Jethro was my knight in shining armour over 20 years ago. He saved me from a mugging. We lost touch like you do; but then we bumped into each other again in a coffee shop a couple years ago. The rest, as they say, is history." 

"Oh that's so sweet!" Loretta cooed, smiling broadly. Gibbs rolled his eyes - he hated that word.  


She smiled at Loretta, "It just goes to show - it's a small world."

"Oh no," Loretta disagreed. "It was fate that's what it was. Fate brought you back together after all that time. It was meant to be."

She looked into his deep blue eyes. "I'd like to think so." She agreed.

"Oh look at you two. You're just so sw..."  


"So I've heard," Gibbs interrupted. He stood and went to join King at the pool table.  


"I didn't mean to offend," Loretta apologised.  


"Don't worry about it. It was nothing personal. He just thinks we're a bit old for 'sweet' - We're hardly teenagers after all. And besides, those two have to work tomorrow. He's got a lot on his mind. "  


"Sure thing." Loretta raised her glass. "Well, welcome to New Orleans and congratulations. To fate." She toasted. The two women smiled at one another and clinked glasses.  


\---  


King studiously chalked the tip of the cue as he decided on the shot he was going to take. He walked around the table and then bent to take it. A confident tap to the cue ball sent the desired spot into the pocket. He stood, re-chalked the cue and started the ritual once again.  


"Don't finish this game too quickly. I don't want to have to go back over there and be called sweet again." Gibbs moaned. Pride let out a light laugh. He leaned on his pool cue and looked across the table at his friend.

"Oh let them have some girl time a while. We don't get many newlyweds in our circle. We're all gettin' old and set in our ways. Besides, your story is kinda s..."  


Gibbs pointed a finger at Pride as if it was loaded. "Don't! Don't say it," he warned. "Just don't or that pool cue will go somewhere you'll regret."  


"Special" King protested with a louder laugh. "I was gonna say 'special' my Brother." He smiled broadly. "Come on, relax a little. You just got married (and note how I didn't say 'again') to a really lovely lady that you adore." He walked over to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. "And she's safely here with us. We're gonna get this creep and keep her that way. She'll be busy with Loretta tomorrow getting a facial and a manicure or whatever. Neither of them will be any the wiser. Relax, my Brother. All is well." He bent to make the next shot but failed to pot another ball. He stood and sighed in exasperation. "Now look what you made me do!"  


"Me?" Gibbs protested, looking innocent.  


"Too busy placating you and not thinking ahead." Pride grumbled.

Gibbs paced the pool table like a caged animal. He ducked to check positions on the baise, closing one eye, moving from side to side. He stood, made another circuit and went through the whole ritual again with another cluster of pool balls.  


"Will you just get on with it!" Complained King, loudly. “Some of us have to get up early in the morning.” Gibbs shrugged innocently.  


"Okay, okay. I didn’t realise it was time for your cocoa." He made his decision and took his shot. The pool balls scattered in a clatter of noise and spinning colours. Several flew into pockets at speed. He stood and looked smugly at King. "Game over. You’re buying." 

The two men returned to the women with more glasses of beer and exotic looking liquors. "That was a quick game!" Loretta exclaimed.  


Gibbs sat next to his wife and wrapped an arm around her waist. He kissed her cheek and smiled into her eyes. _Maybe he could relaxed here for a while._

Pride slumped moodily into the chair next to Loretta. "Never play pool with a sniper." Complained King. "They can work out all the angles."

\---  


She awoke the next morning in their hotel room. The air was warm and humid. The thin cotton drapes swayed lazily to the rhythm of the slowly turning ceiling fan. She stretched her body lazily and turned to find Gibbs already dressed. He rested his foot on the bed to tie his shoe lace.  


I was trying not to disturb you," He said as he leaned over to kiss her.

"Do you have to go so early?" She complained.  


"The quicker I get this done, the more time we'll have later," he explained patiently ... again. "I have to go, Babe. Really."  


"Are you sure?" She threw back the single white sheet that covered her naked body. She arched her body seductively, catlike. She caressed her breast, playing with the nipple until it stood erect. "Are you quite, quite sure? Isn't there something more important you could be doing ... on your honeymoon?" Her hands continued slowly down her body. 

He watched, mesmerized. He moved towards her, smiling faintly. The moment she saw the crack in his resolve, she knelt up on the bed and started undoing his pants, pulling at his shirt and kissing his neck. She ran her fingernails down his back. Her hands seemed to be everywhere. _God, that felt so good._

"Well, I guess another hour won't hurt?" He gasped. 

"Hour?" She pouted.

"Two, I meant two, he corrected as he gave in and pushed her back on the bed. 

\---  


"Well, good morning Agent Gibbs.” Called Pride as his friend walked jauntily through the door.  


"Good morning, Agent Pride.” He replied, a half smile on his lips.

"Nice of you to finally join us." Chuckled King. No need to guess why Gibbs was late, it was blatantly obvious to those who knew him.

"The traffic is terrible around here." Complained Gibbs.

King pointed across the room and scoffed, "Your hotel is across the street! I can see it from the window.” He replied laughing. 

"Any coffee?" Asked Gibbs changing the subject and heading towards the kitchen.

"Only the best in N'Orleans," King boasted. So, with coffee poured and banter over for the time being, it was time to get to work.

\---  


"Okay,” said Pride. “Time to learn things. So, what do we know so far?” 

"We know my wife has been remotely stalked and threatened by her bastard of an ex-husband.” Gibbs spat.

"How was he able to do that?” asked Gregorio. “Hasn’t he been locked up for years?”

"Yes, twenty so far. This all started when he was denied parole. He blames her for it.” Explained Gibbs.

The young woman pouted in thought “Okay, but that doesn’t answer my question. How?”

"He buys the services of other cons who are about to leave prison by providing them with something they want in prison.” Gibbs continued. “Extra food, a mobile phone, drugs and so forth - he's been in a long time. He has plenty of connections.”

"So all these reported incidences are by ex-cons.” LaSalle stated. “What I don’t understand here though is Everett. Tim McGee told me this guy is old and sick. He can barely walk. How can he harm anyone?”  


"I have a better question,” piped up Sebastion. “I have cross referenced Samuel's prison records with Everett's and they do not cross at all. They were never in the same prison together let alone the same wing. So how did they make a deal?”  


"Well he must have had help. A go between. Let’s start with that.” Suggested LaSalle.  


Pride nodded in agreement. “Okay Christopher, you and Sebastion look at recent parolees and if they have any connections with Everett. New York, you and P. look into Everett’s last few years before he got released. Did he have any visitors of interest? Gibbs and I will take the ex-husband and do the same.” He looked across at Gibbs who nodded imperceptibly. They all had work do.


	11. Bad Guys

****

**Chapter Eleven – Bad Guys**

The couple stood arm in arm in the airport parking lot. Her flight wasn’t for a while and it was too nice a morning to be cooped up in a stuffy over crowded departure lounge. Gibbs leaned against the driver's side window, his back to the occupants of the car. Said occupants were not enjoying the wait quite as much.  


“Does he not realise we can hear every word?” wondered Bishop pointing at the over coated back against her window.  


“I don’t think he cares,” DiNozzo replied. “I imagine he’s just relieved she’s heading north for a couple of weeks – gives us time to do what we gotta do.”  


Outside the car, Gibbs held his wife by the waist. He lovingly brushed a windswept strand of hair from her eyes. His entire focus on her alone. There was a certain amount of relief in his heart just as DiNozzo had predicted. They talked of mundane household trivia. Schedules and bill payments, shopping and dentist appointments – who knew? Gibbs teeth weren’t made of steel after all.  


“Will you come and meet me here when I get back?” She asked with innocent brown eyes.  


“I might, if you’re good.” Gibbs replied with a half smile. [In the car DiNozzo made silent barffing motions.]  


“Only is I’m good?” She stepped closer to him, reached into his overcoat and wrapped her arms around his waist. “But what if I’m wicked.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “I can very, very wicked.” [More, exaggerated barffing mimes.]  


Gibbs chuckled, “Oh I can vouch for that ... Hey, stop that! You know what that does to me.”  


"Dear God, make it stop,” pleaded DiNozzo. “I can’t take any more.”  


Bishop slapped him across the head. “Will you stop,” she chided. “I think it’s lovely they can be all lovey dovey together at their age.”  


DiNozzo waved his arms dramatically. “Precisely! That’s what I mean. It’s like listening to your parents having sex.” He hissed.  


Ellie opened her mouth and closed it again as she processed this new interpretation. There was a giggle from outside. She turned to DiNozzo. “So, how ‘bout those Nicks this weekend?” she asked loudly but DiNozzo already had his fingers in his ears, humming tunelessly.  


☆☆☆  


Back at the Navy Yard a motorcycle courier entered the NCIS building and walked up to the Main Desk. Taking off his helmet he placed a padded envelope and a clipboard on the desk. “Package for ... DiNozzo, sign here?” The receptionist scribbled. The courier left, replacing his helmet as he exited the building. A completely normal, non threatening event that barely garnered anyone's attention. It happened a thousand times a day.

\---  


“Special Agent DiNozzo?” the receptionist called as he sauntered breezily through the entrance way. DiNozzo stopped mid-stride. He smiled at Bishop. “Ah, I hear the lovely Chloe calling me. Maybe she has reconsidered my offer of dinner.”  


Ellie looked across at the Main Desk. “I wouldn't count on it. She doesn’t look that hungry to me.”  


“Oh ye of little faith,” Tony replied. “I knew she would change her mind eventually. Women can't resist the ol' DiNozzo charm forever.”  


"Only those who don't know you.” Ellie threw back. Tony feigned offence as he headed off toward the desk working up his best lothario smile

“See you up there,” called Ellie as she headed for the security check point.  


\---  


DiNozzo was not smiling as he stepped off the elevator. Not only had the lovely Chloe turned him down again, but the handwriting on this envelope looked vaguely familiar.  


“Were you expecting anything?” McGee asked.  


"Nope.” Tony sat at his desk. He took a knife from his drawer and ran it along the seal. He looked inside carefully before tipping its contents on the desk. An A5 sized note book and a folded pale blue sheet of paper fell out.  


"Boss! Boss!” He picked up the note with a now gloved hand. “I think this is our guy.”

Gibbs strode across the Bullpen. He joined the others at Tony's desk. He picked up the note. In familiar cut out lettering it read, _“Getting to know you.”_  


They turned their attention to the book. It was an address book. The front page read, _‘This book belongs to ... if lost, please return to’_ and their full DC address.  


DiNozzo turned the pages with the blade of the knife. A photograph of her car, its licence clearly visible fell from the first page. Another of her and Brenda outside their office was next. DiNozzo's business card. All three of her office addresses. A menu from the Busy Bee. A leaflet from the hotel she used in Phillie. A napkin from Gibbs’ coffee shop. Even their dry cleaner’s phone number.  


Sounding calmer than he felt, Gibbs walked back to his desk and lifted the telephone receiver. He dialed and waited. Pointing at the address book he ordered, “Get that down to Abby," Someone answered his phone call.  


“Tobias? I need your guy in Phillie to do me a favour.”

☆☆☆  


Bishop stood up from her desk with the plasma screen remote in her hand ready for her presentation.”The Fairytale Killer struck in and around the Baltimore area between 1994 and 1999. He preyed on women that he likened to Fairytale characters. Five in all beginning with Penny Driver as Red Riding Hood.” Click went the clicker  


\---  


Gareth Lomas sat in Everett's lounge – a chair pulled up to his Uncle's bedside. A small man in his early thirties. He was slight in height and build. An unremarkable looking man you would pass in the street without a second glance, it seemed he had inherited the worst traits of both parents. A disappointment to his mother after dropping out of med school. But he didn’t need fancy certificates and approval to ‘help’ people. Those who needed his help could pay very well for medical attention with no questions asked. The authorities didn’t see it that way, however. His underground clinic had landed him in jail.  


The only one who ever believed in him was his dear old Uncle Harry. He understood. Gareth began prison life under his uncle's protection. He had survived his time in the system because of it. Now it was time for Gareth to return his uncle's support in spades. The one thing Uncle Harry wanted before he passed was to finish his collection and Gareth was going to do that for him.

They were joined by Roy Williams. Tall, strong, well built. The three men had unlikely things in common. They were all lawbreakers in the worst possibly way. The only difference was that Roy hadn’t been dumb enough to get caught. He exuded a quiet, unnerving confidence. He thought he was invincible. Gareth’s planned venture would be a cake walk. It would make him and Lomas famous. Women would fear them. Men in certain circles would admire them. Their work would be on TV. Someone might even write a book about them. He liked the sound of that. He liked the sound of that a lot.  


\---  


Lomas sat with his uncle, a large scrap book on his lap. The book was filled with newspaper clippings, photographs and other aide memoir. Every few pages had a new heading in neatly printed calligraphy. Gareth treated the book with great reverence.  


1) Red Riding Hood  


"Ah Penny, Penny, Penny. It could have all been so different." Everett sighed.A fresh skinned freckled face surrounded by long red tresses of shining hair smiled out from a photograph - Such a shame that smile was not for him. Harry was smitten from the first time he saw her. He tried so hard to impress her.  


She worked in his local bakers shop. Gareth laughed to himself – she actually baked ‘goodies’! Harry pursued her with great enthusiasm. She had turned him down flat – her disgust at the idea only barely hidden. The more she said ‘no' the more he wanted her. He sent her flowers and chocolates. He left her notes at the bakery on his best writing paper. A large man with muscles and tattoos once approached him to leave her alone. That's when the game changed. The bitch.  


Her pages of the scrap book contained newspaper clippings and photographs. A large lock of her hair lovingly tied with a red ribbon. A bag from the bakery. A delivery note from a florist. A piece of lace from some kind of underwear. A piece of crime scene tape. A tooth from that lovely smile. The local cops hadn't got a clue! Gareth ran his fingers across the artefacts in awe before turning to the next girl in the collection with a swish of the page.  


\---  


Ellie clicked the clicker and the grisly pictures of what was left of Penny Driver faded from the screen. They were replaced by an enlarged copy of a driving licence. A young, pale woman with jet black hair stared out of the screen. “Meet Snow White – 26 year old Kirsten Waverley,“ continued Bishop..  


\---  


2) Snow White.  


Snow White was pale of skin with shoulder length jet black hair. She made the mistake of cutting in front of Everett at Fresh-Mart. He stared hungrily at the back of her head. He couldn’t let the opportunity pass. He played nice. He made chit-chat. She taught 6 year olds.

“Your own little dwarves,” he joked.  


"Yeah, except there’s a lot more than 7 of them.” She had laughed and extolled the joys of shaping young minds.  


He noted the ID badge around her neck, the name of the school printed clearly upon it. Her face smiled out from the badge now taped to the page, still with its bloody lanyard that had proved so useful. He sent her gifts to represent each dwarf. The was as ungrateful as the last one.  


Imagine his disappointment to discover her lovely hair was dyed. She got an extra beating for that. But he still kept some for his collection. And her tights – this dirty bitch of an imposter wore no underwear. A Crime Scene notice - removed from the tree in the parking lot where he had left her. There was even a reward for information! This was getting to be fun.  


Everett regaled his friends with detailed descriptions. The newspapers wondered if the two women were connected in some way. His new alias had not yet been invented. That wouldn't happen until the next one.  


Swish went the page/Click went the clicker.  


\---  


3) Goldilocks  


Snow White's story disappeared into the ether to be replaced in the screen by Everett's third victim.  


"Goldilocks made it into the national papers and the Stars and Stripes." Continued Bishop. "It is also when Gibbs got involved. She was Petty Officer Amanda Reinhard. - 24 from Sacremento, PA to Admiral Thompson over at the Academy. She used to joke she took care of the bears."  


\---  


Lomas ran his fingers down the strands of silky blonde hair curled around the photograph. She liked to let that hair down at the end of the week. Harry spotted her one Friday night. She stood out from the crowd. He liked watching her. He took lots of pictures - dancing, drinking, kissing the boys - naughty girl had two on the go. She smiled nice, her petite figure trim and well proportioned. She was just right - right down to the teddy bear tattoo on her hip.  


The papers were getting the idea now. The Fairy tale killer was born. He posed the body for them. Her hair in bunches. Stuffed toy bears in three sizes. A note on blue paper. _"Just right"._  


And Gibbs? Gibbs got pretty close to give him his due – but not quite close enough. The pages in the scrap book included her hair, a gold chain with a spoon shaped pendent he'd sent her, a piece of peach coloured underwear and the teddy bear tattoo he'd found beneath it. And last but not least, Gibbs’ business card. ... just not quite close enough, Everett remembered with satisfaction.  


Swish went the page/click went the clicker.  


\---  


4) Rapunzel  


Rapunzel was where it all went wrong. She jogged in the park every day - Her long brunette ponytail swinging rhythmically from side to side.  


Every morning Harry fed the ducks as she bounced past – all youth and energy. He was enthralled. He found reasons to engage with her. He bought her a drink at the juice cart, followed her to her car. People leave all kinds of things in their car while they go jogging. He sent her vitamins and hair accessories through the mail. He fantasied about strangling her with her ponytail before taking long strands of it for his book. Other trophies already collected included a juice bar menu, her gym pass and even the laces from her trainers.  


Eventually, he had it all planned and prepared. It was a sunny morning but early. The same folk ran In the same order every day. He heard her footsteps – same weight, same tempo as every day. He looked up with a smile "Here we go," he thought. He felt his pulse start to quicken. Flashes of what was about to happen hurtled across his mind. He felt himself getting aroused. This was always the best part.  


He looked up with a grin which faded suddenly, turning into confusion and shock. It was wrong. It was all wrong. Her hair was short. How could she do that to him? He was supposed to pull her back by her hair. It was supposed to knock her off balance so he could drag her up the hill. Instead he had to get much closer. The woman screamed and kicked and fought. He lost control of her and she ran to another jogger for help. The cops were called. Witnesses came forward. His collecting days were over. Gibbs sat in court for the verdict, satisfied with the jury's decision.  


\---  


Ellie switched off the screen as Gibbs came back from the lab. She wasn't quite fast enough. The remnants of the report fading as he caught sight of it. "You don't have to do that on my account." He said. "Hell, I took some of those pictures. I know what could happen."  


\---  


5) Cinderella  


Everett wanted one last kill. The Fairytale Killer returns triumphant. The last wish of a dying old man – even if it was by proxy. The scrap book had started to fill up again. Gareth loved the delight in his uncle's eyes with each gathered item for the virgin pages in his scrapbook. Cinders was a busy girl!  


Samuel wanted revenge, cold and long over due in his eyes. And Gareth and Roy wanted a kidney for the Black Market and a hot sunny beach with no extradition. It seemed a perfect arrangement. Her white hair would finish the book. Nice and tidy. And if it crushed their nemesis at the same time? That was a well deserved bonus.  


\---  


The phone on Gibbs' desk rang. "Gibbs," he barked. It was King. His team had had a breakthrough. Everett had a nephew. They were close. He was the only visitor Everett had other than doctors and lawyers ... And the nephew had shared a prison wing with Samuel.  


Finally! The link they had been/ looking for. Gibbs nodded in satisfaction. He slammed the receiver down. "McGee, grab your gear," he ordered. He was not about to leave this meeting to the others.

☆☆☆

The door frame disintegrated into so much kindling. Two men with firearms drawn followed behind the size 9 boot that had made initial contact. "NCIS. NOBODY MOVE. KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM." The men commanded.  


Everett sat on a commode his trousers around his ankles and his hands in the air. He looked helpless and terrified. His nurse, Williams stood still without raising his arms. He cradled the bed pan respectfully. He nodded at McGee "Trust me, you don't want me to drop this."  


The two agents quickly searched the rest of the apartment. The place was empty with no noticeable sign of Lomas. Roy sought permission to get Everett back in bed.  


Gibbs showed the old man his badge. Everett grunted at him. "Gibbs? Gibbs is it? I remember you. You were a lot younger then."  


"So were you." Replied Gibbs.  


Everett nodded at what was left of his door. "Still not learned how to knock, I see."  


"We're here to talk to your nephew, " said McGee.  


"What? My sister’s runt? That little bastard? I haven’t seen him since prison. He got transferred further up state. I heard he stayed there when he got out.” He shrugged casually. “I have no desire to find out for sure. I don’t really have much to do with family these days - They disapproved of my little hobby.” Everett replied. “These days there’s just me and Roy and Kasia.”  


“Is that a girlfriend?” asked McGee as he poked around Everrett's mail on the dinner table.  


The old man laughed. “Kasia? Do I look like boyfriend material to you? Kasia is another nurse. She stays here over night. She doesn't speak much English. She sits by the bed and knits things for her grandchildren in Poland. Always knitting. Clackety clack. Clackety, clack. Then she wonders why I can't sleep. It drives me nuts. Then when she goes home, William comes in. That's it. The entirety of my social circle ... Until someone kicks down my door, of course."  


Gibbs held out a business card. “If you see him be sure to tell him we're looking for him.”  


As Everett went to take the card Gibbs leans into his ear. "If you touch her I will be back, alone. And Roy here will not be enough to stop me." He stared unblinking at the man on the bed who stared right back – a smirk threatening to break free across his face. His eyes shone coldly as they locked briefly with Gibbs'  


"Did you hear that Roy? This agent is threatening a poor, crippled, old man with physical violence and I’ve never even met his wife." Everett gestured that their conversation was over. "I'm tired gentlemen. I think it's time for you to leave. I'd ask you to close the door behind you but ... " He closed his eyes and lay back in the bed. Their meeting was over.  


As Gibbs pulled the car from the lot he suddenly slammed his hands on the steering wheel.

McGee looked shocked. "What’s up, Boss?" He shouted in panic. Gibbs looked at him with rage,  


"I never said it was my wife.”

☆☆☆

Gibbs was already home when she got there. He sat at the dining table with a cup of coffee and a report. His glasses perched precariously towards the end of his nose. He looked up as she closed the front door a little more forcefully than usual.  


"Hey Babe, good day?" He asked, in some trepidation. The look on her face made him wish he hadn’t.  


"I'm not sure yet," she replied. "Tell me about this."  


She walked across to him holding her new watch at arms length. She threw a small black electronic disc onto the report.  


"What's that?" He asked trying to sound casual.  


"Why don't you tell me?" She snapped. "The clasp broke on my watch today. You know, the watch you bought me to celebrate the DC office launch? The one I was so touched by and that I've worn every day since. The one I thought was a token of your love and respect? It fell on the floor, the back came off and that fell out." She pointed to the gizmo. “Jethro, why is there a bug in my watch?"  


He looked uncomfortably at her. "It's not a bug. It's a GPS tracker."  


"And that makes it any better" She yelled. She took the watch and dropped it in his coffee.  


"What the hell d'you do that for?" He yelled back fishing it out and drying it with his sweatshirt. "That was expensive!"  


"Well I'm sure NCIS has another one." She snapped.  


"FBI actually," he corrected, shaking the watch and holding it up to his ear. "Tobias is going to be pissed." 

She was working her way up to a confrontation. This would all get very loud and very ugly if he wasn't careful. With a sigh he gestured to the chair opposite him. "Sit down," he asked.  


"Why?"  


"Because I'm asking you to," he replied. She reluctantly complied. He took her hands in his. He stared at his wedding ring for a moment deciding the best way to go. He closed his eyes, sighed again and then dived right in ...  


"I haven't been exactly honest with you.”  


“You don’t say,” she chimed sarcastically. She opened her mouth to add something else when he held up his hand.  


“No, you said you would listen. It’s important. Remember, I asked you to trust me? Well this is why."  


He told her everything. The threat, the hunt for Everett and now the hunt for Lomas. The elaborate plans to keep her safe.  


"So, this guy made some kind of deal with Samuel; and he's really particular about how he does things."  


"Yes "  


"And you married me to spoil his plans and lure him out of hiding."  


"Yes."  


"Did it work?"  


"No."  


"And you're telling me that everyone I know, EVERYONE, knew what was happening except me?"  


"Well, we didn't tell Brenda. We figured she was bound to tell you. And we needed you to act naturally if you were being watched."  


"Well that is nice," she countered. "I was allowed one real friend at least. So everyone else has lied to me every day, for weeks, for months? Even Abby?"  


"It's not like that. We've been trying to protect you. And Abby made it very clear she would not lie to you. She just didn't give you the whole truth sometimes." He knew it sounded lame.  


"Hasn't worked either though has it?"  


"No. No it hasn't. We just can't find this guy."  


She sat, perfectly still and calm across from him. It made him nervous. There should have been an explosion by now.  


"So everything we've done over the past months has been police work? Everything? And I've been watched and followed by the FBI or NCIS every day with that purpose? And this is because Samuel is looking for what? Revenge? I don't understand. Why this, all of a sudden?"  


Gibbs cleared his throat and took a sip of cold coffee. "Er ... well, I may have had cause to confront him about the rats and threats and such." He eventually replied - trying to make it sound unimportant.  


"And when was that?"  


Another cough, "A couple of weeks ago, I think ..."  


Suddenly, a whole sack load of pennies dropped ... "Is that where you went on our wedding night? To visit my ex-husband in Prison? What were you doing, comparing notes? And now Samuel sets someone against me and then you counter it. So this has just turned into some kind of measuring contest between the two of you with me in the middle. Jethro, did you marry me just to get at him?"  


"No. No, it wasn't like that." He sighed. "I married you because I love you and I want to keep you safe. I was trying to get Samuel to back off. Instead, he just upped the ante.  


Everett and his apprentice are dangerous men, Babe. For you to be safe, we have to get them off the streets. Every day that they're at large, you are in danger. We thought breaking the prediction would be enough to catch him. So far though, we've been wrong."  


She sat back, a contemplative expression across her face, trying to take it all in. This was another round in what felt like a life long nightmare. Was there no end? She folded her arms across her chest, shook her head. Strangely, she was no longer angry.  


"I feel manipulated, deceived by literally everyone. My life has become a complete sham. I don't know what or who to believe. I don't even know who to ask for advice. I mean, who the hell is there?!" Her voice began to break. Her whole world felt like it was free-falling away from her.  


"There's me. You can trust me. You can believe me." Tried Gibbs  


"Can I? Really? I'm not so sure anymore.." Her comment stung far worse than a slap ever could. She stood up and took a deep, calming breath.  


"I'm going to take a bath and go to bed. I've got a lot of thinking to do but it's been a long day and I'm tired. You're welcome to join me if you wish?"

The invitation to his own bed felt stilted and forced. He knew if he went with her they would simply lie there, back to back, not touching, not sleeping. He hated that. He’d spent too many nights like that in previous marriages. He didn’t want to start with this one too. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He stared, regretfully at the defunked watch.  


"No, I'll go work on the boat for a while. I think you need some space."  


\---  


She sat in the bath, her mind in turmoil. She had been so happy when she left for work this morning. How could it all change so quickly?  


He sat at his work bench, bourbon in one hand, the watch in the other. His thoughts were tumbling around him. He had expected the mother of all arguments. He was shaken by the calm exterior she presented.  


When he finally crept up the stairs, she was curled up asleep in bed. He climbed under the covers beside her and kissed her lightly.  


"Goodnight, Mrs. Gibbs. I love you." He whispered.

When he awoke the next morning, she was gone.


	12. Kidnap

**Chapter 12 – Kidnap**

"She's gone." Gibbs paced frantically around Fornell's office.

"What?"

"She's gone. I woke up this morning, closet is empty. SHE's GONE!!! How many times do I have to say it before someone does something around here."

"Okay, okay. Calm down. Are you sure she hasn't just gone North as usual? Tobias suggested.

"She hasn't got anything scheduled. And she doesn't take everything when she goes. No, this is different. AND DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, FORNELL."

Tobias held his hands out in submission. He recognised his friend was on a very short fuse. "So, what happened last night?" He asked cautiously.

"What makes you think ... " Gibbs stopped himself from playing their usual game. "I told her." He slumped heavily into a chair beside Fornell's desk, exhausted.

"Told her what?

"Everything. The threats from Samuel. Everett. The wedding, the trip to N'Orleans, the surveillance. All of it. And this morning she was gone. Why didn't your guys see her leave?"

"I will be asking them that exact same question when I see them. In the meantime, where is she likely to go? Boston? Philadelphia?"

Gibbs leaned forward in his chair and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I called both offices. I called the diner, the hotel in Phillie and her apartment in Boston. Nothing." He looked Fornell in the eye. "I should have just told her from the get go and put her in a safe house. What have I done?"

"You were trying to keep her safe. We all were.” Replied Tobias. “But we don't have time now for analysis. What's done is done. Now let's go find her." He took his friend by the shoulders. "And we will find her. This, I promise you, Jethro. She'll be okay."

\---

"Boss, Boss, you won't believe where she is." A relieved and smiling Bishop met him as the elevator doors opened. She jumped onto the elevator and pressed 'Lobby'. The doors closed. "Do you remember the hotel she used to stay at when you guys first got together?"

"The Excelsior? I already checked. She's not there."

Bishop's smile got bigger. She held out a set of car keys. "No, but Moira Jameson and Ashlene Davis are ..."

\---

The car screeched to a halt outside the hotel. Gibbs climbed out and flashed his badge quickly at the valet. He marched swiftly across the hotel lobby not feeling the need to explain his presence there. He waited for the elevator, silently fuming. Of all the stupid, pig-headed things she could do, this had to be the worst. If she was going to run why didn't she at least leave the city?

Twelfth floor. The elevator took an age. The piped music was enough to drive anyone insane. Eventually, he stood outside door 1264. Memories came flooding back. So long ago now. He knocked. He heard voices inside. Eventually, he heard the lock turn. The door stopped short on a chain. He looked up to face Moira and she was most definitely, not pleased to see him.

"Why, good afternoon, Lee-Roy," she said scathingly. 

He nodded. "Moira. Let me in please." His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. Anyone who didn't know him would mistake it for calm. 

Moira shook her head. "You've got some nerve Mister. There's no way I'm letting you in here. Not after what you did."

"What? I'm trying to prevent my wife from being hurt and suddenly, I'm the bad guy?"

Moira wagged an admonishing finger at him. "Don't you sass me, Son. I ain't afraid of you. I told you a long time ago that as long that as you treated my girl with respect, we would get along fine. Well you screwed that up didn't you? She has nothing to say to you Mister, and neither do I."

The door slammed in his face. There were more muffled voices inside. He toyed with the idea of kicking the door down, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her to a safe house. It sure as hell, would make him feel better. He didn't think the whole 'caveman' thing would go down all that well. He smiled ruefully, to himself - Ashlene would have loved it.

Since the cat was well and truly out of the bag, he had no qualms about putting an agent at the end of the corridor and another one in the lobby. She would have to speak to him to get rid of them. And he told McGee to dust off his bell hop uniform. The next Room Service order would most definitely be his.

\---

"Room Service," A rather uncomfortable looking bell hop in an ill fitting uniform pushed a table-clothed trolley into the suite. He smiled nervously at the woman and young girl in the room.

She walked out of the bedroom at the sound of McGee's voice. Her arms wrapped around herself protectively. She looked gaunt and tired - rather like the Boss, McGee observed. Sometimes, they were so as bad as each other! Moira was rummaging in her purse for a tip.

"Don't bother tipping him Moira, he doesn't work for the hotel. He's one of Jethro's guys."

"I'd rather think of myself as your friend," McGee replied. "I had to come here for myself and make sure you were okay. We're all really worried about you."

"He didn't send you?"

"No. This is one of my undercover alter-egos." He said as he gestured at his attire. "The others get to play international jet-setting spies, or the like. Apparently, I play Hotel Catering Staff very convincingly." He fiddled with the top button of his shirt sighing as it released itself from the buttonhole and he was able to breath comfortably again.

She walked towards him and hugged him. There was a slight sniffle. He hugged her back. She stepped away from him wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Where are my manners?" She exclaimed. "Moira, Ashlene, this is Timothy McGee - he works for Jethro."

"I bet that's a challenge," scoffed Moira, shaking his hand.

McGee laughed. "Oh, it has its moments." He agreed. "So, you must be Ashlene.” Tim said to the shy girl. “I've heard a lot about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I just wish it was under better circumstances." Ashlene smiled at him behind her hand.

McGee turned back to the others."You know," he started, "you really should be in a safe house instead of here. I'd feel a lot happier if you were."

She shook her head. "Thank you Tim, but I refuse to let Samuel OR Jethro dictate how I live."

McGee winced. "Isn't it a bit harsh grouping the two of them together like that? The Boss loves you. He is so scared for you right now. Gibbs is a lot of things, but he's not a monster. "

She fought back a sob. "I haven't decided yet. I swore no man would ever control me like that again. In some ways it's worse, at least with Samuel, I knew he was doing it." McGee winced a second time - Perhaps he wouldn't mention this part of the conversation to Gibbs after all.

She was getting upset again - undoing all of Moira's hard work that afternoon. "Okay, Mr. McGee. It's been very nice to meet you, but now you have to go." Moira instructed.

McGee nodded reluctantly, "Well, if you won't go to a safe house, will you at least let me check the room for bugs?"

"What? Don't be ridiculous, Son!" The old lady stood, hands on hips. McGee wondered if she'd packed her rolling pin.

"Moira, just let him. It'll take five minutes and it'll keep Jethro off his back." She waved McGee to go ahead.

"Thank you ... Ellie says 'hi' by the way. She was the one who figured out where you were. And it only took a bag and a half of corn chips."

She couldn't help but laugh. It felt good to smile. She missed her friends. They'd only been trying to help. But Jethro? Jethro had crossed a line. She felt her heart crack a little. She took in a shuddering breath. _Could she ever trust him again?_

McGee watched her thoughts play across her face like an old movie across a screen. He figured they were about the Boss. He tried to lighten the mood. As he rummaged around the room he asked, "Everybody has been trying to work out how you got passed Fornell's guys the other night? He's giving them such hell about it! I think they're on filing duty for the next 150 years!"

"Oh please," she replied. "I spent years keeping out of Samuel's way. Sneaking passed those two was a piece of cake."

"Yes, but with your luggage as well?"

"I left that hidden in the back yard. Once Jethro realised I was gone, everyone went running off to find me. I knew there would be no-one at the house so I went back for my stuff. Tell Jethro he needs to make something up to tell Old Mrs. Denes - she saw me loading up a cab and crying."

McGee scoffed. "I doubt you're the first woman she's seen leaving Gibbs' place like that." He got down from the chair after checking the light fitting. He rubbed his hands to get the dust off. "Okay, you're all clear. You ladies are safe here for now." He hugged her again, this time kissing the top of her head. "Please, promise me you'll reconsider the safe house."

"I'll think about it. Say hello to everyone. I didn't mean to get mad with them all. They were just following orders I guess."

"You know it wasn't like that. We're all very concerned with what's happening. Hey, shall I get Ellie to come by with Housekeeping? She'd love to see you."

"Maybe later. I think I want to lie down again for a while. It's all got such a mess." She rubbed a weary hand across her forehead. That was Moira's cue.

"Come on Mr. McGee, that's enough." Said Moira shepherding him towards the door.

"Okay, I'm going. I'm glad you're okay. Delilah says hi," he managed to add as the door closed in his face.

\---

McGee stared at the door for a moment or two. Then he turned, walked to the next door down the hall, knocked and entered. On a table sat a bank of laptops. At the laptops sat Gibbs and Fornell. They looked up at him as he came into the room.

"All set?" Fornell asked.

McGee nodded then sat at the extra laptop and tapped away on the keyboard. Pictures from three separate angles of the suite next door appeared on the screens. "She's going to kill me if she realises," he complained " ... I'm already off her Christmas List."

☆☆☆

Ashlene was bored. The sudden emergency dash to DC was exciting. Staying in a fancy-pants hotel was exciting. All the spy and security stuff was so exciting. But now? Now, days in, she was bored. Very, very bored.

According to Moira they couldn't do anything fun. They couldn't go shopping. They couldn't go out to eat. They couldn't go out at all. She couldn't call anyone. She couldn't message anyone. And all they did was a lot of talking and crying. This wasn't fun no more.

The others were having an afternoon nap. They had talked and cried long into the night. Ashlene had watched all her usual soaps - quietly. Then she flicked through a couple of magazines – quietly. She was so BORED. She stood, determinedly. That's it. She was going to do something fun. She was going to go shopping and buy something nice for everyone and cheer them all up. They couldn't keep her cooped up here in this 5 star prison forever.

The agent in the lobby spotted her. He made a phone call and then followed her out at a discreet distance. Two hours later he returned having received a boredom transplant from the teenager. Ashlene seemed suitably entertained however. She swung her shopping bags jauntily as she crossed the hotel lobby to the elevators. Wait until the others saw what she had bought for them. Now, that was going to be fun!

She returned to the twelth floor happily humming the tune from the elevator. The corridor was crowded. It was full of very busy official looking people in various uniforms. Radios squawked. Cameras flashed. Everyone intently focussed on their duties. A gurney was being wheeled out of their room. Moira lay very still upon it.

The young girl dropped all of her shopping and ran to her friend. "Moira, my God, what happened? Moira, can you hear me? Are you okay? Moira?"

Moira had definitely had better days. When the men came, she did her best to defend herself but there was, realistically, nothing she could do. It hadn't stopped her from trying. She was very quickly knocked to the floor. She hit her head against the wall on the way down. Everything after that was a jumble of unfocused shapes and muffled sounds. At least she'd fared better than the man in the hallway, she thought ... May he rest in peace. She grabbed Gibbs' sleeve as he tried to traverse the corridor. "I tried, Leroy. I tried to stop them."

Gibbs reached for her hand and wrapped it in both of his. He leaned in close to her ear. "Don't you worry about that," he whispered softly. "You just concentrate on getting better now. It's okay. We'll find her. Rest now." He stood. Every vertibrae creaked as the weight of the world descended upon his shoulders. He nodded to the medics and they wheeled Moira away to the waiting ambulance.

\---

Gibbs walked into the hotel suite, all business. There had clearly been a struggle. Broken glass and furniture were strewn around. There was a bullethole in a wall, a gun under the couch. He recognised it as the one he had bought her. He smiled ruefully - well at least she had tried to use it although she'd have been more effective throwing the damned thing at them! The gun was bagged and tagged for Abby. Worryingly, there was blood on the carpet and on the wall.  


The team were fully absorbed in their tasks at hand. Samples collected, photographs taken, measurements made. They worked quickly and in earnest. None would make eye contact with him. No-one knew what to say that would help. They knew the only thing that would placate him right now, was that they did their jobs.

\---

"What are you doing here, Jethro?" Tobias asked, perhaps a little kinder than usual. "You know you can't be here."

"I can't just sit in the office, Tobias." Replied Gibbs. He changed Fornell's train of thought by nodding towards the door. How're your guys?"

"One dead, one in surgery. These guys weren't messing around. They knew exactly where she was, they waited patiently for an opportunity - a crack in the surveillance. It was bound to happen sooner or later. None of us are perfect."

They turned at the sound of a howling banshee. Ashlene had followed Tobias into the suite. She wailed in horror as she looked around the room at the blood and the debris.

"It's my fault ain't it? 'Cos I went shopping? I showed the bad guys where we were. Oh my God. They hurt them. They hurt Moira. Are they gonna hurt her too Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs looked over at Tobias. He couldn't speak. His expression stonelike as his emotions ran from fear to fury and back. The answer to all of Ashlene's questions was 'yes'. He didn't dare think about it. He didn't dare answer. He closed his eyes for a second to clear his head. Tobias stepped into the breach. He tried to calm the girl, making all the right non-committal noises. He passed her over the another agent to arrange transportation to the hospital. He would be along shortly, he promised.

In the meantime, he needed to get Gibbs away from the crime scene. He was currently kneeling on the carpet staring at the patch of blood on the floor. "Hey, Gibbs. Time to go. Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

"No." replied Gibbs as succinct as always.

Fornel could not accept that answer. "Come on. You know the rules better than anyone. You can't be here. Let's get you home. And stop looking at that will ya? It's probably not even hers."

"It's hers."

"Don't be ridiculous. How can you tell."

"It's hers. Don't ask me how I know. I just do."  


"Okay, that's it. We're leaving. Come on, I'll call Emily when we get to your place. She can keep you company and out of trouble."

☆☆☆

_"How do I get out of here?"_ was her first thought. She hurt all over. Her mouth was sore. She had taken a solid right hook. The cheek was already swollen, her eye already closing and she was pretty sure they had broken a tooth, maybe two. She could taste blood in her mouth and her tongue caught on a sharp jagged edge that used to be smooth. She didn't know how long she'd been out. There was no way of telling.

She looked around her. It wouldn't win any awards wherever this place was. It was musty and damp - a basement maybe? The air was thick with dust and decay with a faint chemical smell. Her hands were bound behind her. She lay on a severely used mattress on the floor with one blanket and a bucket in the corner. A solitary bare light bulb hung from a cracked and cob webbed ceiling. There were no windows to offer up any clues to where she was or time of day.

The main thing was not to panic. Stay focussed - Jethro would be moving heaven and earth to find her. She didn't envy these men when he caught up with them. She had never met that part of him but she had overheard enough conversation to know that it was not pleasant. She would play her part from this side. There had to be a way out of this, right? _There are always choices_ she told herself. She just had to figure them out.

☆☆☆

The elevator doors opened to a chorus of, "You can't be here, Boss."

"I'm tired of that sentence." Gibbs barked, glaring at any of his team who dared to challenge him.

"It's the only one you're going to hear." Shouted Vance from the mezzanine. 

Gibbs looked up. "Damn," he muttered. He didn't want to argue with Vance. Slowly, he climbed the stairs to meet the director. "I can't stay home, Leon. I can't. I can't do anything from there."

"You can stay out of the way. You can let your team do their jobs. Let Fornell work the case."

"Ah come on Leon. You must need me for something?"

"Well we could use a new mail boy." Replied his boss drolly.

Gibbs ran his hand through his hair irritably. "Leon. Please. I need to do something. I can at least co-ordinate things from here, surely? Let me be useful. I'm going crazy at home."

Vance looked at his watch as he mulled over Gibbs' request. "You couldn't have been there more than an hour."

"Just long enough to payoff my babysitter." Gibbs replied.

Vance sighed and relented - he would have done exactly the same. "Okay, for now I'll let you stay. But if you start getting in the way I'll send you home. This is Fornell and DiNozzo's case. You can stay on as an advisor - no-one knows her better than you after all."

"Thank you Leon. I owe you."

"You owe me nothing," Leon countered. He chewed on the ever present tooth pick between his teeth. He placed a reassuring hand on Gibbs' shoulder. "You did the same for me once, remember?"

☆☆☆

Gibbs sat at his desk sorting through possible leads. The apprentice. He was sure that was the key. Everett was too old and too sick. He would need someone younger for the dirty work. What did they really know about Lomas?

He jabbed away irritably at his keyboard with the index finger of both hands; stopping occasionally to add to his note book. Gareth Lomas was a low life to the nth degree. He made a living by faking scripts, dealing narcotics and treating the injuries of other low lifes He got caught when one of them inconveniently died on his operating table in the back room of a veterinary practice. The vet got a deal and sang like a proverbial canary.

Gibbs boggled at the verdict – Man II? Really? 12 years, out in 6. Lomas had spent half his time with dear old uncle Harry and then been moved up north to eventually join Samuel on kitchen duty. _So there it was - the link, just as they had suspected._

After 6 years Lomas was allowed out. He ended up in a half way house. Gibbs picked up his creds and his gun from their desk drawer and headed for the elevator. Maybe someone there would know where he was hiding.

\--

The halfway house was a large rundown old boarding house in the wrong end of Baltimore. Unkemped men of various aged hung around the building smoking and drinking, playing cards and dominoes or lost in their own drug induced worlds aware of nothing and nowhere.

Gibbs got out of his government issue sedan that might as well have had “Cop" painted on it in letters two feet high. He opened his ID and waved it pointlessly at the group. They in turn ignored it and pretended he wasn’t there.

"I’m looking for anyone that has knowledge of Gareth Lomas. He stayed here for a while,” yelled Gibbs. Still, nobody said a word. Nobody moved a muscle. “Fine, where can I find the supervisor around here?” he asked. Finally, someone forgot the silent pact and pointed towards a door. Gibbs left the group to their games while he could still fight the urge to bust heads.

\--

The supervisor sat in what might have been a reception area in the building's previous life. A greasy haired, overweight, stained shirt of a man in his forties. He sat typing on an old typewriter - Another parolee had gone AWOL again. His name tag read 'Kenneth'. He yawned and scratched his armpit before he noticed he had official looking company.

Gibbs held up his badge, “Gibbs. NCIS Looking for information about Gareth Mervin Lomas. He resided here about three years ago.”

The greasy haired man shrugged without looking up from his paperwork. “I don’t recall anyone of that name. You sure you got the right place?”

Gibbs swept an arm across the desk. The typewriter and assorted stationary landed on the floor in pieces. He slammed a photograph of Lomas in front of the suitably rattled clerk. “Try harder.” He demanded. “Lomas, Gareth M.”

“Oh y-yes. Now I, I think I recognise him. L-let me check my files.” Kenneth stood and shuffled over to the filing cabinet in the corner of the room. A snowfall of pastry crumbs fell to the floor as he stood. Gibbs followed him and leaned close enough to the clerk to breath down his neck. Kenneth trembled as he rifled through the over stuffed drawer of papers. Eventually, he lifted a file out and handed it to Gibbs.

“Now that wasn’t so difficult, was it Kenneth?” Gibbs snapped at the man sarcastically. He placed the file on top of the filing cabinet and opened it. Reaching for his glasses and his pen he scribbled into his ever faithful notebook.

Lomas had stayed at the halfway house for the maximum 6 months he was allowed. In that time he had three jobs. He washed dishes at a local diner. Then he was a night security guard at a transport hub and finally at a shoe warehouse.

He moved out of the halfway and took an apartment downtown. Gibbs took down the address, closed the file and slapped it against Kenneth's stomach. He tucked a business card into the file.

“If you see or hear from Lomas you're going to call me.” Kenneth nodded quickly in agreement. Gibbs continued, “And you're going to tell him that I am looking for him.” Gibbs leaned in very closely to the clerk, his eyes icy blue and arctic cold. “And I won’t stop until he’s in the ground.” He breathed barely above a whisper.

Kenneth nodded his terrified compliance, sweat dripping onto the file. “I'll be sure to pass that on if I see him, Sir.” Gibbs nodded in satisfaction and left the building 

.

☆☆☆

The apartment block was a nondescript cube of brick and steel nestled in amongst a half dozen others exactly the same. They surrounded a space that might have been a garden or park when this place was first designed. Maybe a kids playground and some trees. But that was back in the ‘80s when they'd been the height of fashion and this had been a desirable place to live. A rusted, wheeless car, piles of trash and an old couch were all that resided there now. 

Gibbs looked around for signs of civilisation. He saw no-one as he approached the stairs but he felt eyes watching him from behind window blinds and ratty drapes. A burnt out elevator meant a four storey climb to the apartment. His knee objected fiercely to the extra exercise. He knocked loudly on the door. “Gareth Lomas, NCIS please open the door. " He knocked again and waited.

A door chain rattled and a bolt slid back from the door of an adjacent apartment. An old man with scraggly white hair in a holey undershirt and shorts peaked though a gap in the doorway. A semi-toothed grin smiled at Gibbs. “He ain’t there. Not him nor his pal. Haven't been for weeks now.” 

“Any idea where they might have gone?” Asked Gibbs as he reached into his wallet for a business card

“Dunno,” said the old man. “Didn’t really talk to ‘em much. Maybe if I saw ‘em on the stairs. Only knew his name 'cos you shouted it.”

Gibbs nodded as the old guy spoke. He handed him the business card. “If you see him or his friend or hear anything about them be sure to give me a call.”

“Is there a reward?” the old man asked. 

“Only the gratitude of a federal agency,” Gibbs replied.

“Then I won't be calling,” the old man replied and slammed the door.

Gibbs sighed. A tired, world weary sigh. If the world won’t help him then he must help himself. He reached into his pocket for his lock picks. Seconds later he was inside the apartment.

\---

The first thing to hit him was the smell. The place wreaked of rotting food and sour milk. Gibbs walked towards the kitchen stepping across trash of every variety. The refrigerator has been left ajar. Everything in it was now a furry shade of green, grey or black. He pushed the door shut with his elbow to try and lessen the odour.

A layer of dust and cockroaches covered every surface. On a small kitchen table among the unwashed plates and moldy cups was a pile of mail. Gibbs pushed the envelopes around the table with a pen to make them easier to read. Amongst the bills and junk was an opened envelop containing a pay slip - $163.72 from Wyman Workwear & Shoes. He placed the slip in an evidence bag and sealed and signed it. He walked through to the lounge. Clearly two people had been living here. A lack of feminine touches told him two men.

He continued through the apartment to the bedrooms. Both were occupied - so not lovers then. Lomas' bedroom was fairly tidy. It contained his Security guard uniforms but few other clothes. The bottom of the closet contained boxes of dressings, surgical instruments, drugs and paraphernalia. So he was back in business.

The second bedroom also contained uniforms. This time nurse/carer uniforms. Gibbs recognised the company instantly - Eden Care. The logo had been clearly visible on Everett's carer's shirt. A cold shiver shot through him. He was not dealing with one apprentice here, but two. He'd been standing right next to one of them. A name badge on the dresser caught his eye. It confirmed everything ... Roy Williams. He picked up the badge with his pen and placed it in a second evidence bag. He needed Fornell to take over now. 

☆☆☆

Tobias stood at the coffee cart leisurely stirring sugar into his latte. A second cup stood next to his. It's owner would be along shortly. Gibbs had been all business when he called. The conversation had totalled nine words. 

As if from nowhere Gibbs tossed the two evidence bags next to Fornell's coffee as he took a sip of his own. The two men walked away from the cart and sat on a nearby bench. Tobias looked at the bags. "Where d'you get these?" He asked.

"Dumpster diving," replied Gibbs, his face unreadable .

"Really?" Tobias asked sarcastically. "In that suit?"

Gibbs was in no mood to play. He jabbed a finger at the bags. "There's two of them. Two. It's up to you now Tobias. You have to find them before I do."


	13. Proof of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ADULT THEMES - gets a bit nasty.

**Chapter 13 - Proof of Life**

When Gibbs returned to his desk a small package was waiting. A padded envelope, hand written, addressed to him. No stamp meant hand delivery. He reached for a pair of disposable gloves. Something sent his gut reeling. He felt the envelope. There was a small box inside. He reached for his knife and checked the seal for wires. 

He called DiNozzo and Bishop across the Bullpen. They joined him with a combination of curiosity and concern. “Either of you see who delivered this?” They shrugged. “Someone brought it up from the lobby.” Bishop replied. “I thought it was something you were expecting.” Gibbs shook his head irritably. “No." He nodded towards the elevator, "Go get the sign in log and the footage.” Bishop hurried off in double time.

With the meticulously kept blade, Gibbs cut across the top of the envelope and tipped out the contents. Sure enough, there was a small box, perhaps a jewellery box and a folded sheet. The note, on now familiar pale blue paper, contained three words.

_"Proof of life."_

Carefully, he prised open the box with the knife tip. He took in a steadying breath.. The box contained two human teeth - one broken, the other whole including the root. His world spun out momentarily. Without another word, he closed his knife, gathered everything together and headed straight to the lab.

DiNozzo turned as Bishop returned from the main desk. "When he gets back up here, I want you to take him home."

"Why do I have to take him? Why not you or McGee?"

"Because I'm the senior field agent in charge here ... And he's less likely to shoot you," explained DiNozzo.

\---

“Abbs I need you to process this for me ASAP.” Gibbs demanded as he put everything down on the bench. He heard the forensic expert get up from her computer in her inner office.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Gibbs what are you doing here? You should be at home." She rushed towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Not you as well, Abbs!" he complained. "Everyone keeps trying to get rid of me. I can't go home."

"Why ever not? Don't you want to get away from all the nastiness?"

"I can't go home Abbs," his voice caught in his throat for the briefest of moments. Only those closest to him would even have noticed. "Because I'm the one that did this."

Abby hugged him harder. "Now you're just being dumb, Gibbs."

He took a step back and stared at her incredulously. “Dumb?"

"Okay, maybe not dumb," she corrected herself. "No-one could ever call you dumb Gibbs ... at least not to your face ... not if they want to live ... but then I just did ... Oh dear ... I'm in trouble now ... Let's just say your judgement is clouded right now. You're not seeing things clearly. She knows you were trying to protect her. And now I'm going to protect you ... Go home Gibbs. Let me work my magic. I'll find your answers for you, I promise. I'll catch up with you later." Abby pointed at the lab door. He kissed her on the temple, letting his lips rest there for a moment.

"Thank you," He whispered. She blinked her eyes in acknowledgement but kept pointing at the lab door until he turned and walked through it.

\---

Once in the elevator he pushed the button for Autopsy. Dr. Mallard and Mr. Palmer were working on the felled FBI agent. Ducky turned as he heard the elevator and opened his mouth to speak.

Gibbs held up his hand to stop him. "Yes, I know Duck, I should be at home. The whole damn building is in agreement. I thought I'd seek sanctuary down here for a while if that's okay? And then I promise, I will go home." He nodded towards the body on the table. "What can you tell me?"

Ducky finished annotating his report and signed the bottom with a flourish. He left the clipboard next to the body and turned to Gibbs. "Agent Gregory Christopher Welsby. Forty four years old. Married with two children. He smoked too much, drank too much and ate too much junk food. He was well on his way to a heart attack. I would have been seeing him relatively soon anyway. He died of a severed spinal cord from a sharp, clockwise rotating motion between C3 and C4 of his spinal column. Thankfully quick and clean. I would also suggest that whoever did this has done it before. This was no lucky try, they knew what they were doing.

Fibres around his neck and upper torso suggest they came at him from behind. He wouldn't have known it was coming - one small mercy I suppose. Perhaps someone in front of him was keeping him occupied. Apart from that, the usual collection of samples have gone up to Abby. I have finished my report for Special Agent Fornell and Mr. Palmer here, has to clear up. The older man folded his arms across his chest and looked up at his friend. "And you, my Dear Jethro, must GO HOME."

Gibbs threw his hands in the air in annoyance, "Aagh. Okay, I'm going! Stop by later Duck? I could do with the company."

"Of course my Boy. I'll bring alcohol, the decent variety."

☆☆☆

Gibbs remembered sitting in a seminar she gave once. He had never seen any aspect of her work before. He was so proud to be there. He so admired the way she could talk to a whole room of people so effortlessly. It was his idea of hell!  


At the Q&A session at the end she was asked how one ultimately survives a sexual assault. Their gaze met briefly. It was a question he had never asked. She lowered her eyes - the question now answered. She turned back to the audience, her mood dark.

"Understand, this is only my personal opinion. Others may offer different advice. I would say, resist for as long as you can, but once you are over powered, give them nothing. Close your eyes. °Try not to give them any emotional response at all - That's what they want. To feel power over you; to take everything from you. So don't give them a thing. Remember, everything is repairable with the right help, but not if you're dead and your priority must be to stay alive."

He had heard every word. Felt every word. There was a special place in the recesses of his mind that would keep that information safe and one day, Samuel would pay.

\---

As he lay on the couch, sick to his stomach. He wondered if she had needed to heed her own advice.  
\---  
As she lay on the mattress, the blanket partially covering her body, she reminded herself - She was still alive.

☆☆☆

The following day another package was delivered. This time to Fornell. He took it straight across town to Abby. She opened it carefully. The note read:

_"Poor Cinders."_

She tipped the content into a tray. Complete tresses of silver hair fell out. "Oh boy," gasped Abby. She grabbed tweezers magnifying glasses and Petri dishes. "I can already see a lot of trace. I'm sure it's got plenty to tell me." She added confidently.

"Should I call Gibbs?" asked Fornell, his face a picture of concern.

"Maybe wait until I have some results." She replied without looking up from her task.

\--

Dr. Mallard requested everyone's attendance in Autopsy later that day. Abby looked distressed and had obviously been crying. Dr. Mallard was stone faced and unreadable. Fornell arrived with the Bull Pen. The door opened one last time to admit Leon Vance. Everyone looked at him in panic.

He took his toothpick from his mouth. "What? D'you think I don't know what happens when you all disappear at once? I want 'in', this time, people. They are my friends too.” He paused and stood ‘at ease' his hands behind his back. “Talk about Gibbs not being on this case, none of us should be.” He turned towards Abby, “Now, what did you find out for us, Miss Sciutto?"

Abby was unusually quiet. She looked at Dr. Mallard with an almost childlike need for support. He placed a fatherly arm across her shoulders. "Start with the positive things, my Dear."

She nodded but still the clipboard in her hand shook. "The packaging itself was pretty standard stuff. The same goes for the lettering on the notes – comic books available from thousands of places throughout the city. No fingerprints or touch DNA. They're not going to tell us anything much.

But, there were airborne particles stuck to the tape and glue and trapped in the envelopes which suggest an industrial area with a high concentration of hydrocarbons and particulates from heavy duty diesel fuel. Mould spores on the tape are consistent with stagnant, dirty water. Maybe somewhere derelict or a dock some place.”

"That doesn't narrow it down by much Abbs," complained McGee.

"Yes it does." She argued. "It takes out the whole of the rest of the city, McGee. That's a lot."

She took a breath and continued. "The blood from the teeth was fresh and oxygenated which says she was alive when they were removed. A carpet fibre on the broken tooth matched that of the hotel room. A lack of any other trace says to me that the second one was taken at a different time and a different place. Major MAs spec. confirmed the DNA from the teeth belongs to her.

"So, we know she was still alive yesterday." Vance added nodding. "That is indeed a positive, thank you Miss Sciutto."

"They won't kill her yet." Hypothesized Dr. Mallard. "They want her hurt and humiliated first. It was always Fairytale's M.O. And this time they have a second victim to torture remotely. That and the agreement they've made with Samuel, these bastards will take their time about it."

Abby continued, her expression still grim. "It appears they shaved her head with a razor - probably a cheap disposable and it didn't do a very good job. There were traces of skin, blood and hair follicles. At least some of the hair fell to the floor and was then swept up to put in the envelope. Not very smart of them because it gave up masses of information.

So, I can tell you we are looking for a warehouse, or factory in an industrial area. Probably derelict judging by the rust and mould spores. The paint is blue but it was green underneath. It's all pealing off and flaking. There's evidence of rats and mice, unsurprisingly. There were also chemicals in wood splinters, probably from floor boards that I'm still trying to identify. I will let you know as soon as I find a match.”

"Now, we're getting somewhere!" DiNozzo exclaimed. "Something to work with. Well done Abbs. "

The Lab Tech couldn't speak anymore. She put the clipboard down on the autopsy table and wrapped her arms around herself. She stared at the report sadly, on the verge of tears. Bishop suddenly understood - one woman to another. "My God." She gasped. "I know what else you found, Abby ... " Her wide eyes matching those of her friend. Abby closed her eyes sadly. She nodded in affirmation.

"Two donors. My guess would be that they shaved her head. The hair fell to the floor and then they ... they ... in the same place. I'm looking for a match. Its running upstairs. As soon as I find one, its yours."

The room was silent. Abby and Bishop hugged each other tightly. Dr. Mallard reached for a handkerchief in his pocket. The other men stared at various spots around the room. Fornell broke the silence. He cleared his throat a couple of times. He looked at each them in turn.

"How do I tell him?" He asked.

☆☆☆

Gibbs sat at the table staring at an untouched TV dinner. He could hear his wife's disapproval at his meal choice in his head. It made him smile for a second. He pushed plastic tray away from him. Why had he even bothered to heat it? He stood, walked over to the trash and threw it away. He heard a car pull up outside.

Dr. Mallard and Tobias walked through the front door. He didn't bother with pleasantries. "Duck, Tobias? What's the word?" Something was very wrong. He could tell by the men's demeanour. "What is it? Is she dead?"

"No, no Jethro. She's not dead." Tobias answered. " ... Why don't you sit down for a minute? Have a glass of scotch. Ducky brought a ten year old malt. It's really very good."

"I don't wanna sit down, Tobias." Gibbs yelled, becoming increasingly concerned. Something had clearly upset his friends and he figured he was next.

"Well, will you at least have the scotch?" coaxed the doctor. Ducky handed them each a glass.

Gibbs downed it in one and handed it back. "Happy now? Now please tell me what you know?"

Fornell looked into his whisky. He swirled the glass and took a sip. The golden liquid burned fiercely in his throat. He felt it reach his stomach. It did nothing to quell the churning he felt there. He looked up at Gibbs. His expression told his friend all he needed to know.

Gibbs clapped a hand across his mouth, looking heavenward as his brain struggled to process the information it had just received. His eyes - windows to a tortured soul, he backed away from the other men. "No, no, don't say it." He muttered under his breath. He leaned against the wall, bent over, his head in his hands. When he eventually stood up, Tobias was walking towards him. His expression combination of shock, hurt and helplessness. There was no way to his friend, his brother, gently.

"What? There's more?"

Fornell reached his friend and took him by the shoulder. His voice was full of emotion. "Two. There were two, Gibbs. She wouldn't have stood a chance against them," he rasped. Tobias turned his head to the floor, too upset to face his friend any longer. “We will get these bastards Gibbs. We will get them.” There was a moment of shocked silence. Tobias continued. "We can assume the apprentices. Abby's DNA tests will be back by the morning. She's staying at the lab tonight to make sure the tests run smoothly."

Gibbs nodded very slightly. He stared at the floor, leaning on his friend slightly for support. He finally stood straight. “You okay?” asked Fornell, gingerly

Gibbs suddenly let out a primal scream and launched a fist towards his friend with Herculean might. It missed Fornell's head by an inch and sank into the wall next to his ear. Wood splintered and plaster disintegrated instantly to dust. “No,” replied Gibbs returning to the Doctor and the whisky. “I am as far from okay as it is possible to be.” He took the bottle and poured himself a full glass of the caramel coloured liquid. He downed the whole lot in one breath. “Now, tell me what I need to know. I want it all.”

\---

Ducky looked up from his book when he heard a moan from the couch. Gibbs rolled over into a sitting position clutching his head with both hands. "My God, Duck. What the hell was that stuff? My head feels like it's going to explode."

"You’re not supposed to drink it like soda-pop." The doctor replied. He picked up the now empty bottle. “I’m surprised you weren't out for quite a bit longer actually.”

Ducky held out a glass of water and two tablets. “Here, take these and drink all of that. Tobias gave up around 4am I’d guess, but I wasn't happy to leave you on your own. Do you feel any better?”

The sun shone belligerently through the front window. Gibbs held up his bruised and bloody hand to block the light. “No, not at all but now I know what I've got to do.”

The doctor picked up his coat from the hooks by the door. “I have to go home and change before work. We will see you later, no doubt.” The two men hugged and slapped each other in the back.

“Thanks Duck,” whispered Gibbs into the doctor’s ear.

“Don’t mention it Dear Boy,” came the reply. Dr. Mallard opened the front door and headed home as Gibbs crawled gingerly up the stairs towards the shower.

☆☆☆

An hour later Gibbs walked purposefully into the office. From his expression nobody was foolish enough to challenge him. He joined Fornell, DiNozzo and his team in the Squad Room. He held up a small package.

"This was delivered to my house while I was showering." Without slowing his pace he crossed the Bullpen and headed straight for the elevator and Abby's lab. DiNozzo looked up towards the mezzanine to see Vance watching the scene unfold. He nodded for the Director to join them.  
\---  
Same padded envelope. Same hand written address. A small box inside. A note on pale blue paper. The note read:

"No more, the bride."

Abby cut open the box and lifted the lid. There was a shocked gasp amongst the surrounding group. Gibbs was terrifying in his lack of emotion - only the twitch of the muscle at the back of his jaw gave away any of his struggle for control. 

In the box, a severed ring finger - her wedding ring still attached, laying on a bed of cotton wool. Vance was the first to speak. "Abby, you, McGee and Bishop work on getting us a location. We must find her today. The rest of you gentlemen, meet me in Autopsy in fifteen minutes." He turned on his heel and left the lab.

Abby tried to comfort Gibbs but he silently shook his head and shrugged her away. He headed in to autopsy with Dr. Mallard and no doubt to the bottle of Glen Livet in the good doctor's filing cabinet.

Fornell and DiNozzo had reports to update and personnel to advise before they met back in the basement

\---

DiNozzo, Fornell, Gibbs and Dr. Mallard stood around the far autopsy table, their expressions grim and determined. Nobody spoke.

"Mr. Palmer, go and do something." Vance barked as he strode purposefully into the room.

"Why of coarse Director, what shall I go and do?"

"I don't care as long as it's far away from here." Said Vance stonily.

"Yes ... right ...Oh, I remember now, I have to take the ... the ... thing up to the ... place. Of course, Director. I'll go now shall I?” The Autopsy Assistant looked over his glasses to see them all glaring at him menacingly. “Yes, I’ll go now ...." He sprinted away as if his shoes were on fire.

"When the doors had closed behind him Dr. Mallard sealed them and turned on the Biohazard Containment system.

Gibbs turned to the other men around him. His expressionless face cold and stone like. "You can't keep me out of this. Not anymore. I'll go alone if I have to."

"I wasn't going to suggest anything of the sort. Everything has changed now." Replied Vance. "As of this morning, we are all on personal leave - for that fishing trip we've been promising we'd take together." Explained Vance. "Anyone who can't swim should leave now." Vance looked at each man in turn. They met his gaze steadily and with determination. No-one moved.

"Good, because no-one attacks our family."


	14. Darkness

****

**Chapter 14 - Darkness  
**  
.

The darkness faded slightly to a mirky grey. She was back on the mattress. Her hands no longer bound, the left one heavily bandaged - another little gift for Jethro. She held her mutilated hand up to her chest. The throbbing pain had settled into a dull roar. 

_"At least it was a clean cut. The bolt cutter was new. Bought to frighten me,”_ she had mistakenly thought. _"Less chance of infection. And The Other One had done a decent job of bandaging her hand. Perhaps she could befriend him and he would help her escape?_ She laughed humourlessly. Who was she trying to kid? She was dead as soon as they'd finished torturing Jethro..

She wondered what they would send him next. An ear maybe or an eye? Try as she might to quell the panic within her, it rose unbidden. The pain in her hand was becoming unbearable. It crept up her arm and filled her head. It hurt to think. She curled herself into a ball and pulled the blanket over herself. _"Please hurry Sweetheart. I don't know how much longer I can hold on,"_ she sent out into the ether. Eventually, she stopped trying to think and drifted into a restless sleep.

\---

"Thank you Mr. Huq, you've been very helpful." Said Ellie as she finished her phone call. She turned to the others  
.  
“That was the current owner of the workwear suppliers. He said the company had a different name years back but he doesn't remember what. They were much bigger then and had warehouses down at the docks to store materials. They were closed when it became cheaper to make goods abroad. They still own the warehouses though and Lomas would have been sent there at least a couple of times to guard them. The security teams take turns going because they are both derelict and it’s really boring ... But they'd be perfect if you were looking for somewhere to hide.” 

"Ellie I could hug you right now," McGee grinned. "That's got to be it! How far back d'you think we'll need to go?" Abby and McGee's fingers danced across adjoining computer keyboards like demented tap dancers  
.  
"How about 1982?" Suggested Abby. "The Crawford Leather Company specialised in dyed leather for shoes and boots. It wasn't dyed there but it was stored there in large quantities before being turned into workboots and shipped across the States."

"Could the chemicals have leached from any of that?" Asked Ellie.

"They could." Replied Abby, "If it hadn't been fixed properly at point of origin then it would continue to dye whatever it touched - floor, walls, pallets, stuff like that. That would account for the chemicals I found in the wood splinters."

"Did Huq know the addresses? Asked Abby.

"No, he just knew they were off Pier 12. He's only been there once."

"Do either of them have basements?" Asked Ellie. "Abby, you thought it was a basement, right?."  


"Unknown." Replied McGee, "I'll see if I can find any building plans. In the meantime, I think it's time the others got moving. 

\---

McGee jumped up from the desk excitedly. He rushed to the printer as it churned out pages of floor plans. He scanned across them urgently. “I've got them,’ he shouted excitedly. ‘My God I've got them." He reached for his phone. "Boss, Boss we've got it. They're in one of two places. Head to Pier 12 we'll send the rest of the information to you.”

☆☆☆

She stood barefoot and tiptoed on a chair. Her mouth and eyes bound with duct tape. A noose around her neck. If she made a sudden move, she would hang. If she passed out again from the pain, she would hang. Or her captors could simply knock the chair away and she would hang. 

"What shall we send him this time?" The Other One asked.

"Oh, I don't know.” Replied Boltcutter. “What about one of these?" He ran the blade of a sharp knife under her breast. He drooled grotesquely at her. "I bet he's missing these." She felt a flat tongue rasp across her breast as the knife cut from underneath. She let out a muffled cry of pain and disgust.

"Or maybe something a little smaller but just as precious." He dragged the knife slowly down her body across her stomach and down between her legs. She felt it bite into skin in places, blood ran down her body, and dripped onto her feet. "I've read about it in magazines - places where they cut all this away. He sure’d miss that. Wouldn't he?”  


She couldn't help herself. The noose, the tape, the position of the knife. She felt her bladder let go. She wept in humiliation as the warm liquid ran down her leg. Her captors laughed hysterically at her 

"Hey, you owe me twenty bucks!" Bolt Cutter declared triumphantly. "I said I could make her do it! Help me get her off the chair, I gotta have me some more of that. And this time she can't bite me." He began to cut her down.

"I don't know, couldn't we just finish up here now and get going?” Asked The Other One. “Uncle Harry will be waiting and the cops'll be looking for her by now." 

Bolt Cutter was not going to give up his fun that quickly. His arm held her to him like a rag doll to a child. He swung her away from The Other One. “All in good time Gary. All in good time.”

“Hey, we’re not supposed to use names remember?”

“Oh she’s not gonna tell, are you Sweet Cheeks?” Bolt Cutter laughed again. “You’re never gonna tell - You know that, don't you?” he whispered in her ear. His stale, hot breath burned it's way into her brain. "By the time we're done, Lover Boy gets whatever is left - which won't be much; and Samuel wins .... again. Just like he always did." He whispered menacingly.

He tore the tape away from her mouth roughly and forced his tongue into her mouth, kissing her grotesquely. He tasted of stale burgers, cigarettes and beer. She wanted to vomit. As he broke the kiss she spat at him. He swung her away effortlessly. 

“Now that wasn't nice! I might have to punish you for that.” He dragged her towards the mattress. Shouting to The Other One over his shoulder, "You go and get your kit while I entertain myself one last time. Won't that be fun Sugar Pie?" She kicked wildly in his general direction. Her foot made contact with his groin. A lucky shot but effective just the same. “Now that was very bad. You’re gonna pay for that.” He punched her hard. She lost consciousness quickly, the grittiness of another lost tooth her final thought before darkness descended once again.

☆☆☆

Vance and DiNozzo reached their destination first. There wasn’t much to see. There had clearly been a fire at some point in its history. There was little left of the main structure. They found a basement entrance only by climbing through the rubble. It was rusted shut with no sign of any recent human habitation. They were clearly in the wrong place. Vance called Gibbs on his cel.

"This is a bust, Gibbs. She has to be at your locale. We're heading your way now." 

☆☆☆

Fornell and Gibbs pulled up at the warehouse quietly. A wide, expanse of a place, much of it derelict. They parked up and climbed into the building. At a doorway, Tobias pointed at the paintwork - blue over green. They nodded to each other. This place was looking promising. They drew their firearms and headed forward.  


Gibbs pointed to a ladies shoe that lay abandoned on the concrete. He recognised it. It threw his concentration for a second. He swallowed down his fear and channelled it into a controlled rage. Someone was going to die today. He nodded 'ready' to Fornell and they made their way quickly and quietly into the building.

\---

"Come on, Man. They're here. We gotta go." Bolt Cutter was getting antsy. He had heard the car pull up.

"In a minute. I'm almost there." Said The Other One.

"No now. You’ll have to finish up in the van. Come on, lets go!”

“I told you we should've done this earlier." The Other One complained.

"Yeah, but I wanted ..."

"I know what you wanted you sick bastard, but we still need at least one part of her to get any money.

☆☆☆

The van roared away at full speed. Gibbs ran after it, gun drawn trying to get a clear shot. Suddenly the back doors opened and a bound, woman's body was pushed out of it. He rolled to avoid her, planted his right foot solidly and from a kneeling position, emptied a full clip into the van's fuel tank.

Instinctively, he dived back across the woman’s body, shielding her with his own. There was an almighty explosion behind him. He felt his legs and back pelted with burning debris. Everything went silent as the explosion shut down his eardrums. Choking, acrid smoke stung his eyes and throat. His mind was clogged with fear - There was no movement from the woman beneath him. He clung to her, shielding her from the carnage around them. He didn't move until he felt Fornell brushing burning shrapnel from his back. He struggled out of his overcoat and jacket. He folded the jacket into a pillow and knelt down to his wife's side.

She was bruised, battered, cut and filthy. Her hairless and naked body bound at wrists and ankles. Two strips also ran around her head - to cover her mouth and eyes. Two large wounds were easily visible - one underneath her breast and one to her side.

He lay her on her side and cut away as much tape as he safely could. He talked continually to her reassuring her that she was not alone and that help was on the way.  


Tobias called for backup, fire, ambulance and ME. Hell, he'd have called the Coast Guard as well if he thought it would do any good! He crouched beside Gibbs. He checked the woman's pulse. Faint and thready but there "It's okay Jethro. She's alive. Alive Jethro. Can you hear me?"

Gibbs gave no response. He took Fornell's hand and pressed it against one of the wounds. "Press here, hard," were his only words. She groaned faintly, barely aware of her surroundings. She knew this was a familiar voice. There was an element of deja vu somehow. 

The blood seeped between Gibbs' fingers, He stroked her hair for a second before returning to her wounds. He kept talking. It would all be okay. He was right there. The medics were on their way. Fornell noted the grim expression, the frantic way Gibbs was literally trying to hold her together.

\---

Dr. Mallard and Mr. Palmer pulled up. Ducky jumped out of the van as Palmer was still parking up. "Let's see to the living shall we? The dead are not going anywhere." He ran up to Gibbs and Fornell and crouched down beside them. He held out a handful of gauze. 

"Jethro pack the wound under her breast. It looks a lot worse than it is. Keep the pressure on. That's it. I'll work on the other one. Tobias, thank you for your help, I can take over now." 

Dr. Mallard looked across at Gibbs, read the unspoken question then rested his hand on his friend's shoulder. Gibbs knew. He'd seen enough in his time to know. He looked into the good doctor's eyes. "How long, Duck? How long before it's too late?" he asked.

\---

The getaway van was almost burnt out as Vance and DiNozzo arrived. They gave it a cursory check for survivors. There were none to be had. Looking at the remains of Roy and Lomas, Vance couldn’t help thinking they had got away lightly.  


He turned away from the scene without a moment's sorrow. "DiNozzo, you and Tobias go and get Everett, I want his sorry ass back behind bars. He ordered. "Now that we've found her I’m going to head back to HQ. I need to congratulate the team there." He nodded towards Gibbs "And cover his time off." 

As Tony and Tobias climbed into their car, Vance turned to the younger agent. "The team's yours until further notice Tony. Make Gibbs proud." DiNozzo looked across to the stricken woman on the floor.  


"I will." He said. "Both of them." 

\---

Ducky went to work on her worst injury. He recognised the botched nephrectomy for what it was He worked with speed and precision. They hadn't got as far as taking the organ. They'd obviously abandoned their endeavours in an attempt to get away. 

She was losing blood volume at an enormous rate. He cleaned and packed the wound. He clamped and sutured. He administered painkillers. What she really needed though was a full operating theatre, a blood bank and an ICU. _Where was that bloody helicopter?_

"Mr. Palmer, bring the gurney and some blankets and then get Dr. Weiss to come and collect those bodies for us. I'll deal with them later. "

\---

An ambulance pulled up. The medics jogged over to assist. Lines were put in. Fluids raised. "Hang on my Dear," Ducky assured her patting her hand. "The helicopter is almost here. Hang on my brave girl."

☆☆☆

DiNozzo drove towards Everett's Baltimore address as Tobias struggled to clean the blood from his hands and shirt sleeves with a bottle of water and a box of tissues. He was getting more and more frustrated. Finally, he'd had enough letting out a yell and punching the glove compartment which opened and spilled its contents all over his feet. “Goddamit!” he screamed as he shoved it all back and slammed the door shut again. 

“I was gonna ask if you're okay, but I think I already know the answer.” Said DiNozzo nervously. “D’you wanna talk about it?”  


“No, no I don't ... “ Tobias snapped but then continued. “My God you should've seen ... how could any one? ... I really don't know if she's gonna make it. It'll destroy him if ...

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tony suggested. “The medics were there. She'll be at the hospital by now. And we have a job to do. So let’s get this over with so we can go help.”

Tobias nodded. “Yes, yes you're right. Let’s go get this scumbag and get back to our friends. Thank you Tony and I'm sorry ... It's just ... ”

“Don't mention it,” replied Tony. “We all feel the same way.” He sighed. “Just keep thinking: She's going to be fine. They are both going to be fine.”

☆☆☆

When they got to Everett's apartment there was already a pair of uniformed cops standing outside the building. Crime scene tape billowed in the wind around it 

An unpleasant and all too familiar smell emanated from the open front door. "Damn, we're too late," muttered Tobias. They approached the two uniforms and flashed their ID's  
.  
"Tobias Fornell, FBI. "

"Tony DiNozzo, NCIS. "

\---

A voice from inside the apartment shouted out "What? THE Tony DiNozzo? The world famous Baltimore detective. It can't be?"

DiNozzo smiled as he recognised the voice. A heavy set man with wavey grey hair in a cheap looking brown suit stepped out of the apartment. He smiled and held out his hand to DiNozzo. Tony beamed his most charming smile as he shook the man’s hand warmly. “Mack! I thought you retired already.”

“No, they don’t get rid of me that easy!” Mack shook Tobias’ hand. “Jerry MacDowall – I taught the kid everything he knows.” He nodded his head towards Everett’s door. “So what to the Feds want with this creep?” 

Tobias nodded, “From the smell of things we're too late.”

Mack grimaced, “Yeah, a neighbour called it in. Come on, I'll show you,” he said lifting the tape to let them through.

The three men found a clearly deceased Harold Everett sitting upright in bed. He’d been gone three, maybe four days DiNozzo estimated. The only thing of interest in the whole scenario was the large scrapbook on Everett's lap. 

Using a pen to turn the pages Tony eventually got to Cinderella. Mack was talking to Fornell “We always assumed he had trophies stashed somewhere we just never found them. This is a real coup for the crime historians. Like finding Jack the Ripper’s medical bag.”

“Before you get too carried away Mack, I gotta tell ya this is part of an on going investigation. Old Harry here got himself a pair of apprentices.” He tapped the page with the pen. “Cinderella is actually my bosses wife. She survived but only barely.”

Mack's expression blanched slightly. “Your boss? You mean Gibbs?” Tony nodded. “Jeez, I don’t particularly like the guy but I wouldn't wish something like this on anyone’s ol' lady.”

Tobias was getting impatient. “If you find anything linking the deceased to a prisoner in the northern Maryland prison, we need to know ASAP.” Then he leant across the body to turn a page. Half way down it with a photograph of a boltcutter against a left hand. The third finger clearly missing. Next to it was a small ziplock bag containing her engagement ring. Tobias pointed at it. “I want this returned to its rightful owner once it’s been processed and not a minute later. Is that understood?”

“Sure. No problem. I'll deal with it personally.”  


Tony looked relieved that there would be no petty argument over jurisdiction. When the chips are down, law enforcement takes care of it’s own. Tony shook hands with his friend again. “Thanks Mack, I owe you.”

“Oh just buy me a beer next time you see me.” Replied Mack. “Send Agent Gibbs my best and tell him I'll get the ring to him as soon as possible – he has my word.”

The two Federal agents left the scene to the local cops and headed back to DC with one less loose thread to have to deal with.

☆☆☆

Gibbs sat in the waiting room caked in dirt and dried blood. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees holding a cup of awful coffee the nurse had offered him. It sat cold and undrunk in his hands.

Bishop and Abby met Dr. Mallard outside the room. "What's the word, Ducky?" Ellie asked.

"Eleanor, thank you for getting here so quickly. There is no news at the moment. She is still in surgery. They did a real hack job on her. And then of course, there are all the other injuries on top of that."

"Other injuries?"

"Too many to remember and quite frankly, I'm happy not to at present. He nodded towards Gibbs in the waiting room. “I have to get back to work but I don't think he should be alone. Try and get him to eat something - even if it's just a chocolate bar. I'll be back later."

Abby walked into the waiting room while Bishop and Ducky spoke. She took the coffee cup out of Gibbs' hands and placed it on the table. She sat next to him hanging onto his arm, her head on his shoulder. He leaned heavily against her, utterly exhausted. Neither needed to speak.

\---

Hours passed. When he was finally allowed to see her she was clean, neatly bandaged, ventilated and medically comatose. Monitors around her pinged and created wavey lines of varying colours. She looked peaceful though, comfortable, he consoled himself with that before he was dragged away from the ICU by the nursing staff. He was a walking health hazard. They listed her injuries and her prognosis. He hardly heard any of it. He sat by her bed in numbed shock. His head in his hands, his mind slowly shutting down.  


Ellie called Fornell. "We need your help Tobias. We have to get him home somehow."

\---

A broken hearted Fornell helped Gibbs to his feet. "Let's get you home, my friend." He said softly. He wrapped a blanket around his friend's shoulders and guided him out to the car. Gibbs lay on the back seat motionless and silent, his head upon Abby's lap.

Back at the house they persuaded him to shower and wash the blood from his body and hair. He emerged from the bathroom in sweats.

"Where are my clothes?" He asked in panic. "Where's my coat and my suit." 

"Relax," said Tobias, "I put them in garbage bags and put them outside."

"You had no right to do that, Tobias."

"What? Why? You can't possibly want them? They will never clean."

"I don't want them clean. They have her blood on them. They're all I have right now."

"What? That's too macabre even for you. I can't let you keep them. It's gross."

"Don't tell me what to do in my own house, Fornell."

"I will if it's weird. ... Okay, I'll go and get them but only after you get some rest  
.  
Abby pointed to the bags of clothes. "I should really take those anyway," she said to Fornell. "There may be transfer on them. At least that's a real reason why he can't keep them."

"We should put some things together for her in a bag. Clothes, underwear, toiletries stuff like that." Suggested Ellie. “Gibbs, why don't you show me where to find things.”

"Right, and I'll make coffee and food and then you can take a nap." Added Abby. 

“I don’t need any of that. I just need to get back to the hospital.”

Abby pointed a pan In his direction “Don’t you argue with me mister. You've got to keep yourself well for her. That means eating and sleeping. And don’t look at Tobias like that, he's on our side.”

“I am?” said Tobias upon hearing his name. “Oh, yes I am. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to argue with Abby with saucepan.”

Fornell had been miles away in his own thoughts while the girls busied themselves around him. He was trying to process his own feelings around the situation. He was very fond of the current Mrs. Gibbs. She made his friend happier than he'd seen in years ... even when they argued! He couldn't believe it had come to this. This ex-husband of hers was a real piece of work. She had been stalked, terrorised, beaten, raped, mutilated all on his orders. Tobias knew the bastard would never stop until she was dead and Jethro was utterly destroyed. He could not let that happen to his friends. There had to be some way to stop the smug son-of-a-bitch. 

☆☆☆

She remained in a comatose state. Gibbs remained at her bedside. Dwayne Pride had flown to DC at the first possible opportunity. He stood watching the pair from the ward window  
.  
"He's hardly left her side for over a week now," said DiNozzo as he met Pride and shook his hand. "He's like a faithful old dog in a black and white movie."

"Or maybe he's like a loving husband concerned for his wife." Pride snapped back perhaps a little too sharply.

"Well, yeah, that too" babbled DiNozzo. "It's just we're still not used to seeing him like that. It's kinda different, you know?"

"I'm going to go say hi.” Said King. “You stay there, I'll need some help being useful and you just volunteered yourself."

\---

He walked up to Gibbs and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "Hello My Brother, I thought you might like some company."

Gibbs stood wearily, turned from the bed and hugged King tightly. "Good to see you King. Very good."

"Jethro there's no point in me lyin', you look terrible, son!"

They both laughed to ease the tension. Although he made light of it, Pride was shocked at the state of the man in front of him. Gibbs was a mess!  


"When was the last time you ate?"

"I can't face anything like that." Gibbs replied.

"Well you have to. You'll be no good to her lying in a bed in the next room. When was the last time you went home?"

"Umm ... What day is it?" Gibbs asked.

"That was the wrong answer, my Brother." Pride took him by the shoulders. "Go home Jethro. Take a shower, grab a bite to eat and take a nap. I'll stay here and watch over her until you get back."  


Gibbs looked across to the still form in the bed. "I don't know. What if she wakes up? I want to be here when she does."

"And I'll call you right away if there is any change. Any change at all. Go on now. Tony can drive you." He pulled Gibbs closer and whispered, "Go on. You're killing yourself like this, Man. You'll be no good to her dead." Pride raised his voice a little. "Hey DiNozzo, take this reprobate home will you and don't let him back here until he's had something to eat and some sleep."

"Sure thing, NOLA boss. Come on DC boss, your chariot awaits."

\---

When Gibbs was well on the way home, Pride turned to the woman in the hospital bed. He hardly recognised her. "Oh boy," he exclaimed just as a nurse came in to check on her vital signs. She seemed startled.

"Where's Agent Gibbs?

"I convinced him to go get some rest. I'm a family friend, Dwayne Pride, Special Agent Dwayne Pride." They shook hands.

"My name is Shirley. I've been taking care of Mrs. Gibbs. I'm afraid I can't discuss her condition with you Sir, as you're not a relative."

Pride held up his hands in submission. "That's quite all right Ma'am. I'm just here to keep her company until Gibbs gets back." He sat and held her hand as Shirley did 'nurse stuff' around them. When she left, Pride stood up and leaned across her pillow to whisper in her ear.

He kissed her cheek gently. "Hey, Boo. How's it going? Stupid question I know. I just didn't know how else to start ... Loretta packed a bag for you with ladies things in. There's a new nightgown she thought you might like and some hand creams and wotnot. I don't know much about that kinda stuff. And some magazines for when you wake up." He hesitated for a moment.

"Darlin', I have to tell you something very important now. You have to listen real hard to me okay? ... I know you are really really hurtin'. And I know you are fighting with all your might and none of us knows how that will turn out. I need you to know that you are loved by so many and we are all praying real hard for you ... But, if you decide that you can't do this thing we call life anymore, you can rest easy. He will be okay. We will take care of him for you. You have my word on that."

He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment before kissing her cheek again and sitting back down. As he sat, his foot kicked something on the floor. He bent to pick it up. It was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the better and he opened it to find a list of her injuries written in Gibbs' hand. He went down the list then folded it back up and put it in his pocket for safe keeping. This was emotionally exhausting. How was his friend coping with it all? 

It had been a long trip. The room was warm and the sun had gone down long ago. The rhythmic sounds from the monitoring machines was soporific. King felt his eyelids falling. He leaned forward on the bed, put his head on his arms and nodded off.

☆☆☆

"Hey, that's my place!" Protested Gibbs. Pride woke with a start. He sat up, his spine complaining bitterly at the sudden movement. Gibbs looked a little better. A shower, a change of clothes, a hot meal, he almost looked human again. The two men embraced and changed places. He kissed her forehead.

"Hey Sweetheart. I'm back. King didn't bore you too much with his old stories, did he? I brought you some clean clothes and the book from your night stand, we can finish it together if you like?" Then he turned to King.

"You staying at ours King? It's turned into a kinda Ops Centre. Open house - there are keys somewhere but I'm not sure who has them right now. Abby's there at the moment. The spare room's made up or there's either couch. The old one is fine - I slept on it for years before she convinced me otherwise."

"That's fine. I guess I could do with some shut eye,” replied King. “I'll catch you later. I'll bring coffee." He hugged Gibbs briefly and headed out to Chez Gibbs with DiNozzo.

\---

DiNozzo felt like he was playing tag team bosses. Gibbs was back at the hospital so now it was time to take Pride back to Chez Gibbs.

Agent Pride stretched and rubbed his face. "Thanks for the driving tonight Tony. I'll rent something tomorrow, I promise. " 

DiNozzo nodded. "We're all just doing our part right now. Glad I'm able to help."

"So, did he get much sleep?" Asked Pride.

DiNozzo grinned. "He was out by the time I'd pulled out of the parking lot. I made sure I took the long way back to his place."

"I think it's time to get organised." Pride suggested. "Do you guys have some kinda Bat Signal to get everyone together? Meet up at the Gibbs place?"

"Yeah," smiled Tony. "It's called Abby Sciutto!"

\---

By the time they pulled up to the house it was already full of people. They all sat around the table coffee and tea in hand. Several had brought take out. Abby, Bishop, McGee, Dr. Mallard and Fornell. Pride poured coffee for himself and DiNozzo before they joined the others. 

"Thank you all for coming." He said. "I thought this would be easier than a whole bunch of phone calls." 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper from under the hospital bed. "I found this at the hospital. Dr. Mallard, you'll already know all this I'm sure. I don't know why he has it all written down, but at least it saves us having to ask. This is what they did to her."

"ALL of this?" asked Ellie, "She should be dead."

"Precisely," Ducky replied. "It's shear willpower that's keeping her with us and Jethro knows it. Things are still somewhat unpredictable. I'm sure that's why he is reluctant to leave her."

"Okay," said Pride trying to pull the conversation back. "So, we can't do much to help her - That's for the docs and possibly the clergy. But we can help him. It would mean a couple hours a day. Someone here to sort out food, shopping, laundry, watering the plants, whatever. Others going to the hospital to give him a coffee break and a chance to stretch his legs. I'll start in the kitchen and cook up things that will keep. And I'll make sure there's enough for whoever comes over. This place can act like a kind of HQ. Its going to be a long and bumpy road ahead for both of them.”

"Everything is covered at work. Vance made sure of that. He even has security on standby if Gibbs so much as steps foot in the place." McGee added.

"Senior wants to help too." Said Tony.

"And Emily," added Tobias.

"Cool. Very cool. I don't think he should be driving either. That way, if someone has to take him, it means he won't be on his own in case ... in case ... You know."

"I should warn you ladies and gentlemen, that that outcome is still a distinct possibility and the longer she remains unconscious the more likely it becomes. Her brain activity is barely above minimum."

Tobias cleared his throat and stood. "Well, we'll cross that bridge if we have to but in the meantime, I prefer not to go there." He picked up the list from the table. "I'm going back to the hospital. I'll give this back to him."

☆☆☆

As Tobias walked into the room, Gibbs stopped reading and took off his glasses. "Hey, you bring coffee?" 

Fornell held up the cup carrier "Yep, and not that machine crap from down the corridor. Venti, extra shot, Americano. I brought sugar in case you need the extra energy." He handed over the cups and then went over to the bed, kissed her forehead and held her hand  
.

"Hi Sweetheart. We're going to wear your forehead out at this rate! Emily says she'll come over after school tomorrow and talk at you. So, if you want a nice peaceful afternoon, I'd wake up now."

He sat back down with Gibbs and took his coffee. They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the bed or the monitors. When he'd finished his coffee Tobias reached into his pocket and pulled out the list.

"King found this on the floor when he got here. Would you mind telling me want it is?"

"It's a list," Gibbs replied succinctly.

"Yes, I can see that," his friend snapped. "but why do you need it?"

"I don't want to forget. I need to stay angry - the extra adrenaline will help keep me focussed."

"Focussed on what?"

Gibbs leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees. He turned his head to face Tobias. He lowered his voice and held up the list. "He's going to suffer every single one of those injuries, Tobias."

Fornell nodded in understanding. He didn't argue. He'd seen that look in his friend's eyes before. "The female injuries?" He asked. Gibbs took a long sip from his coffee cup. His smile was ice cold.

"Well ... I'll just have to improvise."


	15. Red

****

**Chapter Fifteen – Red**

"Hey Tutz, wake up. Come on, come on, I haven't got all day." Her companion shook her and then poked a brightly painted fingernail into her arm. "Come on already. Up and at'em!" 

She opened her eyes. A severe looking redhead was leaning over her shaking her shoulder. She had a round face, red hair cut in a bob and bangs. She wore bright red lipstick to match her nail polish  
.  


"Oh there you are." The redhead said. "I was beginning to think I was wasting my time."  


"Where am I?" She looked around. The room was very bright. She was aware of people somewhere on the periphery but they seemed very distant and out of focus.

"It's probably best not to ask, Honey." She was told. Changing the subject, Red asked,  


"So you're the latest one huh, Tutz?" She shrugged, and folded her arms. "Good luck with that." She pouted.

"What? The latest what?"

"Wife," Red elaborated as if talking to a child. "Never thought he'd try that again. Guess that shrink must have something to do with it." She put her hand to her forehead. "Maybe if he'd seen her sooner, a whole lot of things could have been different."

"So are you an ex-wife?” She asked. “Which one?"  


"Yeah, well there are a lot of us. Funny, you don't seem his type. Were you a red head before you went grey?"

"No, a brunette and I prefer to think of it as silver."

"Yeah, whatever." Replied Red waving her hand dismissively.

She decided to change the subject as she was getting nowhere with the current one. "Why am I here?” She asked. 

“Why are you here? Why am I here?" Red repeated. “Why are any of us here, right? A lot of us seem to be here to deal with him." She nodded at someone across from her. 

In the distance she thought she could see Jethro. He looked concerned, afraid even. There were people with him, holding on to him, Ellie and McGee, she thought. She couldn't quite see what was going on.

Her attention was brought back to Red who was still talking. "You seem to have a pretty good shot at it though - as good as Little Mrs. Perfect over there. Different of course." 

Red waved at someone in the distance putting on a fake smile. She wiggled her fingers "Yoo-hoo!. I was the first one after her. I stood no chance.” She stopped for a moment as a thought crossed her mind. “Hey, does he still do that thing with his tongue where ..." She looked up as if listening to an ear piece. "Okay, okay. I'm getting on with it." she sighed impatiently, " ... I'm supposed to ask you to make a choice ... "

The red head pointed behind her. She turned to see. She saw a hospital room. Jethro was indeed being held at bay. Ellie was clinging to him. McGee was almost in a football tackle trying to keep him away from the bed.

There were people surrounding it all working very efficiently. Each knew their role. It played out like a TV medical drama. Someone shouted "Clear," They all stepped away from the bed in unison. There was a thudding noise. She felt like she'd been kicked in the chest by a horse.

The medics moved back to the bed fussed a bit longer and then repeated the process. This time the kick must have been from the horse's bigger, older brother.

"You've not got much time left to decide." Said Red. "They'll do that once, maybe twice more. If you go that way, you'll have a lot of pain and struggle ahead of you. But if you go this way you'll have rest, no more pain, a perfectly unscathed body and Little Mrs. Perfect - who likes you apparently." She folded her arms again and shrugged defensively. "And me, I suppose. You got me too. Your choice Tutz, but it has to be quick, now."

The penultimate kick in the chest came from some mythical beast with six hooves. It took the air from her lungs. It choked her. She gasped and spluttered desperately trying to breath. Everything went dark, sounds echoed. She could hear Jethro somewhere shouting.

"No, Babe. You can't leave. There's so much we have to do. Babe, stay with me. Listen to my voice. Come back to my voice. Doc, you can't stop now. Try it again. Do it again!"

She felt like she was swimming through molasses - Desperately pulling her body upwards but quickly running out of air. She struggled for the surface. She could see it above her. She kicked and clawed her way up. She knew she had to break the surface soon or be lost. But, she was so very tired. It would be such a relief not to hurt anymore. Maybe it would be easier to just stay where she was and let the current take her.  


\---

The hospital room was in chaos. People running. Others shouting. Jethro fighting with McGee to get closer. "No Boss. You have to stay out of the way. They'll kick you out otherwise." 

She lay flat on the bed. Someone was compressing her chest. They stepped back to allow the defibrillator to be used. There was a fourth and final thud, her body lifted from the bed slightly. They all stopped and watched the monitors. The various coloured lines remained flat. The young doctor holding the paddles looked across at Jethro.

"That's four," he said. "I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, I'm going to have to call it."

"No, no you can't. Doc, try it again. Babe don't leave me."

\---

She went spinning through the molasses head over heels. She couldn't tell which way was up any more and more importantly, she no longer cared. That last kick was enough. She was exhausted. _"I'm sorry, Jethro. I'm done. I lost."_ She closed her eyes and let the current pick her up and take her.

Suddenly she felt someone push her from behind. Their hands were small yet determined against the small of her back. She stopped spinning. She could see a faint light. A final effortful push upwards against her back and she broke the surface. 

She gasped for air. She choked. There was noise and light, an overpowering antiseptic smell and people everywhere. She kicked and flayed her arms in panic. There were shouts and hands holding her down. A young face leaned over her shouting. She couldn't work out what he was saying. He kept shouting over and over. 

"Do you want the tube out?" 

She continued to struggle. She succeeded in getting her arm free and let her fist fly. (“At-a girl” she heard Red shout in triumph.) Her fist made solid contact with Shouter's eye. He cried out in surprise as his glasses went skittering across the floor. Someone else laughed. It was a good laugh. She knew that laugh.

"I think that's a 'yes', Doc."

She felt two hands on her head. There were soothing sounds then something being pulled from her throat. The people around her seemed happy - even Shouter but she couldn't understand them.

A man leaned over her. He was crying and smiling. He was saying something but she couldn't tell what. Everything was a cacophony of noise and light and colour. She couldn't make sense of it. It was all too much for now. She stared glaze eyed as they fussed around her like excited worker bees. The man collapsed into a chair behind them, his head in his hands he wept with relief.

\---

She awoke in the early hours of the morning. The room was dark and quiet. So much better. She was propped up slightly in the bed. There were wires and tubes around her. Monitors were flashing lights and making noises at anyone who cared to pay attention.

Gibbs sat in a chair next to her. The top half of his body lay across the bed, his head near her lap, one arm across her legs. She tried hard to move her arm. It didn't want to co-operate. Eventually, she managed to move a couple of fingers and run them fleetingly through his hair. It was barely a movement at all. It took all her effort. It was enough to wake him. He looked up sharply. He saw her watching him. 

"Hey, Mrs. Gibbs. You decided to join us? We weren't sure if you wanted to for a while. I'm glad you're back."

He leaned over and kissed her very lightly on the mouth. "I have to go tell the nurse you're awake. I love you." He whispered, got up and went to find a medic.


	16. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the last two chapters, you deserved a smiley one 😀

****

**Chapter Sixteen – Promises**

"But you promised!" She pouted like a petulant child. Her arms folded across her chest. 

"I did nothing of the sort," Gibbs argued back. 

"You did so. You said if I did all my physio and didn't give the nurses any shit for a whole day you would do it. And I've been good today - you can go and ask Shirley." 

"I may have said something similar. I don't recall my exact words ..." This was a promising sign. She could break him, she knew it was possible - given the right ploy. He stared at her with steely determination in his eyes.

"Ple-e-a-se." ... He looked disdainfully over the top of his glasses. Okay, so begging was not going to work. She tried a different tack ...  
"I saved you my jello ... " She sniffed at the small pot on her bed tray suspiciously. "It's red flavour!" 

He hesitated, just for the tiniest of moments. That was the tell. Ah-ha! Success!! Jello - she could always rely on the Jello!! 

He stared heavenward for a moment and then sighed heavily. "All right. All right. You win ... but not with the stuff." 

She looked at him in disappointment. "It has to be with the stuff. That's the best part." 

"But it makes my hands smell all ... girlie," he grimaced. 

"But you promised! I've been dreaming about you all day. I've been waiting here for you." She looked up at him longingly, chewing her bottom lip tentatively. He sighed. She looked so cute when she did that ... AND she damn well knew it! He couldn't turn her down. 

"All right. All right. But you gotta keep the noise down this time. Everyone was looking at me weird when I left the other night." 

"I will, I will." She promised excitedly. She giggled and shuffled down the bed towards him. 

\--- 

He took off his jacket and hung it across the back of his chair. Then he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and rolled them up a turn or two. 

"Come on, come on, before Shirley interrupts us." She hassled him impatiently. 

"Okay! Pass me the jar." He sat on the bed with her. "And stop wriggling will you?" 

She did as she was told, closed her eyes and lay in wait - the anticipation almost more than she could stand. He opened the jar, smeared some of its content onto his hands and threw back the sheets. She squealed excitedly. 

"Shush, will you." 

"I'm sorry, I can't help it. You're just so good." She sighed. 

"Ssh! You wanna shout it to the whole world?!" He hissed looking around self consciously. 

No one had heard her, thankfully. He knew this would take a while. He picked up her right foot and rubbed the lemon and jojoba foot cream into the skin before running his thumb up the insole towards her toes. The groans and sighs could be heard all the way back to the nurses station.

\---

"They're at it again in 306," Shirley complained to her colleague. 

"That is one lucky gal!" Replied her desk mate, Andrea. "I would pay a hundred bucks for a foot rub that good. All she needs is an extra pot of jello!!!" 

☆☆☆

Bishop exited the elevator onto the third floor. She could see the two nurses at their work station. They saw her and suddenly found lots of important nurse things to do. As she walked towards them she started to hear ... noises. She stopped at the desk.

"Is that what I think it is?" 

"That depends," asked Shirley. "What do you think it is?" 

There was another groan from 306. "Don't stop that. Ahh, just don't. Yeah, just like that ..." 

Ellie' s eyes were wide as saucers. If that was her friend she could hear, did that mean The Boss was ... eew! 

"Should we be listening to this?" She asked Shirley. 

"Probably not," replied her colleague, Andrea. "But it sure makes the night shift interesting!" 

Shirley was putting on her coat - her shift was over for the day. She headed towards her patient's room. Ellie jumped ahead of her.

"I-I don't think we should disturb them, do you?" Said Ellie.

"Why not?" Asked Shirley. "I'm just saying goodnight." 

"Yes but," she almost fell through the doorway with Shirley. She took in the scene in an instant. "Feet. Of course, it was feet. I remember you said he was good at it." She looked in shock at Gibbs who raised a questioning eyebrow at her. "The feet thing ... not the ... other ... thing. Not that you're not good at the other ... thing. But I wouldn't know anything about that of course. ... Oh God. Should I just leave?" 

"How do I get home if you do?" Asked Gibbs. Shirley interrupted. 

"I'm on my way now Gibbs. I'll see you in the morning. Oh, and Gibbs, I checked on that thing you were asking about? Doc says fine. Anytime after eleven should be okay. Goodnight." She turned to leave and then stopped suddenly. "Oh, one more thing ... You're keeping the whole floor awake again."

"I'm stopping now anyway. And thank you, Shirley. See you tomorrow." He stood up from the bed and covered his wife's feet with the sheets. 

"You're stopping?!" She protested. 

"You heard what Shirley said. You're keeping the whole floor awake again. I told you you had to be quiet this time." 

"I think I really should leave," flustered Ellie. 

"No, no. I'm coming." Said Gibbs 

"Oh God, no," gasped Ellie under her breath. She closed her eyes trying to block out that particular mental image. "I'll never be able to unthink that." She muttered despondently.

\---

"What's Shirley been checking?" She asked loudly. He kissed her forehead.

"It's a surprise. You'll find out tomorrow." He made to leave. She grabbed his hand - which was soft and lemon scented! 

"Aren't you forgetting something?" 

"No, never." He looked at Bishop and raised both eyebrows at her. She turned and left the room. He leaned over her, a hand on either side of her pillow. They kissed tenderly for some time. Her eyes remained closed as they parted. Her face a picture of rapture. She sighed. 

"I miss you so much." 

"I miss you too. Now, get some rest. And it's no use asking Andrea about your surprise, she knows nothing about it." She tried to look innocently at him. It wasn't working.

"Would I do such a thing?" 

"Uh-huh." He kissed her quickly again. "Now, be good - that's an order." 

\---

Ellie and Andrea watched the couple from the desk. "Doesn't he realise there this big window right behind him?” Ellie asked.

"I guess not. They're very sweet together aren't they?" Replied Andrea. 

"Yes. Yes, they are ... but don't ever say that to him. Ever.

☆☆☆

"Bishop, where're you parked?" He barked as he left the room. She jumped at the sound of his voice, 

"South Parking Lot, Boss." 

"Good night, Andrea. And thank you again, for letting me stay late." 

"The pleasure is all ours, Gibbs," she smiled. "Good night." 

\--- 

They climbed into the car. "All set?" He asked. 

She nodded and smiled warmly. "All set." 

"D'you think she'll like it?" 

"Gibbs, she will love it. Any woman would. It's the most romantic thing I think I've ever heard of." She gushed excitedly. "And I would never have thought of it from you." She faltered. "That sounded worse than I meant. It's just you know, you're not the most demonstrative of people and ... " 

He smiled looking off into the distance. "I made her a promise. I wanted to see it through. She deserves that much." 

Bishop gave him a goofy looking 'that's-so-sweet-but-I'm-never-gonna-tell-him' smile and held his hand for a second.

He patted it gently, "And I really must thank you for all your help. Everybody's help. I couldn't have done this without you. If I'd know it was so involved maybe I'd've made more of an effort with the others." 

She reached across and hugged him. "Let's get you home." She said. "Busy, busy day tomorrow." 

☆☆☆

Shirley got to work early the next day too excited to stay home. She had grown fond of Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs. They were an interesting couple and today, today would be the best! She could write a romance novel about it! 

He arrived with a garment bag over his shoulder. He walked into her room as she was drying her hair. "Just in time," he said kissing her cheek. "Don't put that nightshirt on. I brought you this," he showed her the bag. 

"Why? What's going on? Am I getting out of here?" 

"I'm breaking you out for the day. I bought you a new dress and some new shoes. I thought we could go say 'hi' to everyone at work. Then go get coffee, maybe sit in the park for a while and then we're going to the Adams House to meet Tony and Senior for an early dinner. How does that sound?" 

"Heavenly." She grabbed the dress bag. "Okay, let's go." 

\--- 

"Did you really buy this?" She asked suspiciously.

"Okay, you got me. Ellie bought it. But I like it. It's nice and ... " He struggled for a word, "floaty." As he helped her into it he whispered, "D'you remember the last dress Ellie helped me buy?" 

She smiled salaciously. "You weren't so eager to get me into that one I seem to remember! Out of it, maybe! ... " They smiled at their shared secret.Ever.

☆☆☆

Disappointingly there weren't many people around at NCIS. Ellie explained where everyone was. "Tony and McGee were on a case, Ducky and Jimmy were picking up a 'customer' and Abby was in court. "Director Vance is hovering about somewhere I think." 

"No, it doesn't matter," she tried to smile. "I can't stop people from working. They didn't know I'd be visiting today. I wanted to introduce Shirley to everyone. I mean, I spend all day talking about them all." Gibbs gave the slightest of smiles as he pushed her wheelchair towards the elevator.

"Well never mind, shall we go and get a coffee and sit in the park?" 

She sighed. "Okay. Maybe we'll see someone out there we know." 

"Well I'll see you again soon," said Ellie as she turned back to her computer screen. As soon as the elevator closed Vance and Bishop ran for the stairs.

\---

"Shirley, would you like a coffee?"

"No Gibbs, I'm fine. Thank you though."

As she sat and drank her mocha with all the trimmings she could swear she could hear music coming from somewhere.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Maybe there's an open air concert somewhere. Let's go and see."

Gibbs looked surreptitiously at his watch. "All right, but let me finish my coffee first. I'm enjoying not having to rush it."

\---

Gibbs pushed the wheelchair up the hill. The music was definitely getting louder. "Oh look," said Shirley, somebody's getting married. How lovely!" There were rows of chairs arranged in two sections with an aisle through the middle. A stage at the front with a canopy, elaborately decorated with flowers. On the stage a string quartet played. She sighed. "Well they have a really lovely day for it." she smiled.

Gibbs leaned down to her in the chair. "Hey, let’s go crash the party?"

She looked shocked that he should suggest such a thing. "We can't do that! It'll spoil it all. They'll be looking back at the photos one day thinking 'who the hell are they?'"

"Sure we can. Nobody will notice if we stand at the back. Don't you want to see the bride? Come on!"

He started to push the chair towards the wedding party. She was beginning to panic. "Jethro, stop. Whatever has gotten into you?! We can't just barge into somebody's wedding. What on Earth will people say?"

He stopped for a moment. He looked suitably chastised. "Well, maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right and so do you." she hissed. She turned to Shirley who appeared to be struggling to keep a straight face. "I'm so sorry Shirley, what must you think of us?"

Gibbs knelt down in front of her. He took both her hands. "I know we can't just walk into somebody else's wedding. "

"Good!" she interrupted

He continued. "But seeing as this is YOUR wedding, I don't think anyone will mind. He stood and started to walk towards the stage. He turned and continued backwards, "And you're going to walk down the aisle - that's your physio for today." He smiled enigmatically and blew her a kiss.. “Gotta go.” He nodded towards the canopy at the front of the audience. “See you up there.” He ran behind the stage and changed quickly into his tuxedo. Tobias joined him for a moment. “That was fun,” laughed Gibbs. Then he pointed at Tobias “Rings?” he asked.

Tobias patted his top pocket. “Rings” he replied.

Gibbs smiled.”Okay then. Let's do this.” The two men took their places at the front of the stage. He nodded at the quartet. The music changed.

\---

Shirley was giggling like a schoolgirl. She clapped her hands with glee. "Oh it's been so hard to keep the secret. Especially if you were having a bad day - he's been working on this for weeks. Now come on, out of that chair, my lady!" 

Emily came running up to join them - a veil flowing behind her as she ran. She and Shirley placed it upon her head and fussed with it until they were happy before lowering it over her face.. Emily hugged her aunt tightly. “Its been SO exciting helping Uncle Gibbs and SO hard not to tell you,” she laughed. The music changed. “Oh, that's our cue,” Emily said and headed off down the aisle with Shirley.

\--- 

DiNozzo Sr. turned around as they reached the back of the aisle. He looked suave and dashing in a very expensive looking tuxedo. He beamed at her. “Don't you look lovely, my Dear. That's a beautiful dress.” He handed her a single pink rose. "Junior said you should have this too." He offered her his arm.

Confusion reigned. It took a while for it to all sink in. Dr. Mallard took her other arm chivalrously. "I believe, Jethro made you a promise, My Dear. We've all worked very hard to help him keep it." He explained. He stood proudly to attention. The medals on his breast pocket shone in the light. 

Everyone stood as they started down the aisle. Holding on to both surrogate fathers she walked slowly towards her husband, acknowledging the people around her as she passed them. 

They reached Gibbs and Fornell - his best man as promised. His eyes shone. He looked adoringly at his wife as he took her arm from Ducky. Dr. Mallard took a seat next to Moira. He offered Moira his arm gallantly. She blushed like a teenager. Senior joined his son on the groom's side. She turned to Gibbs.

"How long did this take you?" She asked, amazed. 

"Oh, I had a lot of help." He nodded gratefully towards their friends. 

\---

James Palmer (Autopsy Assistant and part-time Marriage Officiary) stepped forward, smiling happily. On the stage next to him was an easel covered by a satin sheet. He addressed the audience and couple alike.

“I know that this wedding was all a bit of a surprise and sprung on you last minute. And I know that you have been very busy at the hospital working on getting better. So Tony and I took it upon ourselves to write some vows for you. So repeat after me: ” With a theatrical flourish he removed the silk cloth.

\---

“I [insert name here]  
Take thee Leroy Jethro Gibbs to be my already legally wedded husband.  
For richer, for government salary,  
For coffee and bourbon,  
In sawdust and engine oil,  
For as long as we both shall live.”

Jimmy then turned to Gibbs. “Now it’s your turn Gibbs. Don’t worry, we’ve used only short words.”

“I, Leroy Jethro Gibbs take thee  
[Which one are you again?]  
To be my already lawfully wedded wife.  
For richer for Govenment salary.  
For coffee and drinks with little umbrellas.  
In vintage fabric "I didn't know that was a thing! " interjected Gibbs ... and air miles.  
For as long as we both shall live.

Tobias came forward and presented a small tray on which their wedding rings sat. Gibbs placed her engagement and wedding ring on the third finger of her right hand and kissed them tenderly. She picked up his ring and he too offered his right hand. "If you do, then so do I." He said softly.  


Jimmy continued. "With the sharing of vows and the exchanging of rings witnessed by those gathered here today, and by the power invested to me by the American Marriages Online Correspondence Course, I now pronounce you husband and wife .... again. Jethro, you may kiss your fifth bride.”

Gibbs lifted her veil, they smiled at each other broadly. He wrapped her in his arms and without hesitation they kissed each other tenderly. Applause and laughter filled the park.

☆☆☆

At the Adam’s House later that afternoon Tobias placed a hand on Gibbs' shoulder as he told his story, " ... and then he shot me in the butt!" Laughter ensued. That story never got old ... well, at least to Fornell.

"As well as catching Bad Guys, Jethro has caught more than his fair share of wives." [Nervous laughter.] "And all of them amazingly beautiful women. We have no idea how he does it, do we fellas?! Many a beer has been sacrificed to the discussion of this particular Gibbsian talent."

Gibbs looked down in embarrassment. (Was he blushing?) Fornell shrugged and scratched his head. "I mean, is it charm? Guile? Witty conversation? Whittling ability?" [More laughter.]

"They obviously see more of him than we do." There was uproar. She winked theatrically at her audience. Tobias hammed up looking at his notes. "I'm sorry, that should have read, they see more TO him, TO him than we do." He waited for the room to calm.

"But seriously, if there is anyone who deserves an extra chance of happiness, it has to be these two people here. I have watched their relationship grow through good times and bad. I have seen them both blossom as individuals and as a couple. They are good for each other. I am honoured that they call me 'friend'. I wish them both every hope and happiness in their future together. Please stand, and join me in a toast, ladies and gentlemen." 

The room stood. They all raised their glasses. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, the Bride and Groom"

"The Bride and Groom." Repeated their audience and applauded. The two friends of many years shook hands and slapped each other manfully on the back as they swapped roles. 

Tobias went and hugged her affectionately and kissed her behind her ear. "Are you enjoying today?" He whispered. She nodded yes. "You deserve it." He said his voice cracking emotionally. "We love you, you know that, right?" He added quickly before moving away from her.

\---

Jethro stood up and wait for their audience to settle. He reached into his pocket and took out a sheet of paper. There was a gasp from some. Was he really going to make a speech?! He looked at the paper, holding it at arms length. Then he held up his hands.

"Sorry, sorry. That's a lumber receipt. I was wondering where I'd put that." The room erupted in merriment. He waved his hands for quiet. He put the paper back in his pocket and took a deep breath.

"As some of you may know, I'm not one for words. Much of the time, I think they're over rated. But I made a promise to a certain lady a while back, that she would have a proper wedding and I didn't want to let her down." [The audience collectively sighed happily.]

"I have a lot of thank you's to make. To all the people who helped me organise today. You all know who you are and there are too many of you to list. I didn't realise how much goes into one of these. My others I just showed up with my suit cleaned and my shoelaces tied!" [More laughter.]

"I have to thank the medical people for letting us escape for the day and in particular, Nurse Shirley Thompson who gave up her day off to be here for us today." There was a hearty round of applause. Shirley was made to stand and take a bow. Abby handed her a bouquet and hugged her. She giggled like a school kid. 

"I have to thank you all for coming. I realise it was short notice for many of you. I hope you are having a good time and will continue to do so for the rest of the evening." [A ripple of applause.]

"And now, I only have one thing left to say," he turned to face his wife, took her hand kissed it lightly and held it to his heart. He stared lovingly into her eyes, a glimmer of a tear only she could see. 

"I love you, Mrs. Gibbs."

There was a collective sigh from around the room followed by applause. As they watched Gibbs kiss his bride tenderly, Tobias nudged DiNozzo Sr, "And that Is how the lucky bastard does it."

☆☆☆

The afternoon sped by in a blur. She chatted and laughed and smiled until her face hurt. It felt like she hugged everybody at least once ... And Abby dozens of times! But time was getting on, and Shirley was paying attention.

"I think it's time to get you back." She whispered to the couple. Gibbs nodded in agreement. 

"Come on, Babe. I don't want to get in trouble with the docs." 

An ambulance was waiting outside with boots and streamers on the back. The DiNozzo boys grinned at her. "It had to be done." Said Junior as he hugged her warmly. "I said it would all work out, didn't I?" He whispered softly.

\---

She was virtually asleep by the time they got back to Room 306. Gibbs helped Shirley get her ready for bed. 

He kicked his shoes, climbed onto the bed and spooned next to her for a moment, his arm around her waist. Within seconds, they were both soundly asleep. 

Shirley drew the curtains across the observation window. Sure, it was against regulations but no drug would make her sleep as well as that man's arm around her! She considered it her wedding gift to them both and closed the door softly behind her.

☆☆☆

Nurse Doyle (nee Ratchett) walked into 306 the following morning to find a man in a tuxedo wrapped around her patient. She sighed. "Mr. Gibbs, would you kindly get out of Mrs. Gibbs' bed?" She barked. 

"No," he stated emphatically. His arm tightened around his wife - he wasn't going anywhere without a fight this morning.

"I really must insist, Mr. Gibbs. It's in your wife's best interest." 

"It's Special Agent Gibbs" He advised without opening his eyes. "And I have a gun." 

"It could be Your Royal Highness Gibbs for all I care. Now out!" She demanded. 

Her patient groaned sleepily in protest and grabbed his arm to keep it around her. 

"Agent Gibbs," she tried reasoning with the couple. "You have to let me do my job. And my job is taking care of your wife without you getting in my way." 

He thought about begging for ten more minutes. It probably wouldn't work he decided. Bribery then? He opened one eye and took a good look at Nurse Doyle. Her face was stern and unforgiving. Nope, not that either. Resigned to his fate, he sighed. 

"I don't want to Babe, but this mean, evil woman is making me do it." He kissed behind her ear and slid slowly from the bed to avoid disturbing her too much. He turned to the nurse. "I'm going home to shower and get changed. I'll be a couple of hours." 

"Thank you," she said, more softly. "And congratulations to the pair of you. And thank you for the cake in break room." She smiled for the first time. "Shirley told us all about it - Such a sweet story."


	17. Lost and Found

****

**Chapter Seventeen - Lost and Found**

He pulled the car onto the drive."Home at last," he said.

She looked at the house. She drank it all in like a fine wine. Every brick, every pane of glass, every garden plant. God, how she'd missed it. She turned to him."They're all waiting in there aren't they?"

He stared at her for a moment. A look of defeat slowly spread across his face. "I'm supposed to say no," he admitted. "Abby was so excited about you coming home ... I kinda got caught up in it all. Will you be okay?"

"For a while, I guess. I really just wanted to sit by the fire and read a book with you, though."  


"We can do that tomorrow night, I promise."

He helped her out of the car and took her arm as they made their way to the front door. His unlocked it. She made to go through  
.  


"No, wait, wait wait." He said urgently. "I forgot something."

"What?"

"There's still one thing I haven't done yet!" He exclaimed. With a flourish he bent and scooped her off her feet. "I'm supposed to carry you over the threshold, remember?"

He walked through the door. The lights clicked on.  


"Surprise!!" Yelled everyone.Smiling and laughing at her 'surprise' he stood her on her feet. A great many hugs and kisses ensued. 

☆☆☆

She managed a couple of hours but then he had to ask everyone to leave. All was suddenly quiet in the house. It was just what she wanted. Laying on the couch in comfy pyjamas and a blanket with her head on his lap, she couldn't have been happier. This was what life was all about - Not riches and the accumulation of stuff. The love and simple touch of another human being - She had dreamed about being home for months.  


Gibbs ran his fingers through her hair gently as he watched the TV. She dozed in and out of the movie. Neither spoke. Neither had to. It got late. The movie ended. "Will you come to bed with me, Mrs. Gibbs?" He asked softly.

\---

She hovered by the side of the bed unsure how to approach the subject. She wrung her hands anxiously.

He lay on the bed and held out his hand. "It's okay. I understand. It's okay. I will never, ever pressure you. You tell me when."

She sighed in relief and climbed into bed next to him. They held each other close. Clinging to one another in desperation. It had been such a very long time. He pressed his face into her hair, closed his eyes and breathed deeply. How he'd missed this. Just the smell of her, the feel of her against him. His arms wrapped prospectively around her. He could stay like this forever. Eventually, he broke the spell.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked tentatively.

"Of course!" She smiled weakly at him. "Don't be silly." She chastised.

He leaned over her and gently touched his lips to hers. They felt soft and sweet beneath his. He had missed this most of all. He kissed her again just as softly. She responded in kind. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his more firmly. Tears sprung to her eyes - of joy, relief, sorrow. God, his mouth felt so good 

She opened her mouth to allow his tongue free reign. He took the invitation in an instant. He filled her mouth kissing her passionately. He kissed her neck, her face, her hair. He rolled his body on top of hers ... And she froze immediately. Her body shook involuntarily. 

He jumped back from her, kneeling up on the bed. Her fear of him a complete surprise to both of them. He chided himself for not learning more. He hadn't been prepared for this. He should have been. It broke his heart. She sat up on the side of the bed, looking down at the floor.

"I can't. I'm sorry, I just can't." She began to cry softly.

"No, it's my fault - I got carried away in the moment. Just let me hold you for a while. Will that be okay?"

She nodded, staring at the bed. No eye contact again he noted. After more coaxing she lay back down in a foetal position. Her knees to her chest. He curled his body around her, an arm around her waist. He kissed her neck and stroked her hair while all the time whispering reassurances to her. Very gradually, her body relaxed and uncurled. 

Eventually, they spooned together in their usual manner but he could still feel the tension about her. He pretended to sleep and felt her move just an inch or two further away from him. It brought an ache to his heart. The woman she once was was gone. He had to mourn, move on and learn to love the new one she had become.

☆☆☆

Grace was surprised when her assistant told her Gibbs was on Line Two. An alarm bell rang ever so slightly.

"Hey Grace, It's Jethro. Is it okay to talk?"

"Sure. What's up Popeye?

"Can I come and talk to you some time soon?"

"Of course." There was that alarm bell again. "How about this afternoon, say around two thirty?  


Where d'you wanna meet? The diner?"

"What about at your office?"

Now she really was worried. He had NEVER come to her office. 

"Of course you can. Why the sudden urge to see my office? What if someone sees you coming in here? Don't you have a reputation for being a hard-ass to uphold?"

"I don't care any more and there are some things you can't discuss in a diner."

"Oh, okay. I'll see you then. Bring coffee."

She hung up - A five alarm klaxon screaming in her head.

☆☆☆

"So, what d'ya think?” asked Grace.

"About what?" Replied Gibbs distractedly.

"My new office? It's the first time you've seen it." 

He looked around briefly. "It's okay."

"Thanks. Your enthusiasm is underwhelming."

"Well, what do you want me so say?"

"Why you're here would be a good start. You've been staring at your shoelaces for the last ten minutes. You called me remember? This is on the clock." She sighed.

He did the whole lips-opening-and-closing-with-no-words-coming-out thing for a second or two and then looked away. The pot plant on the coffee table next to him became the greatest feat of horticultural endeavour known to man. He studied it intently avoiding her gaze.

"Do I have to guess?" Grace suggested. "You know I'm not supposed to guess. You're supposed to tell me ... " More horticultural interest and still no words. She sighed. THIS IS A TALKING THERAPY she wanted to scream. Sometimes this whole schtick of his could get very tiresome  
...  


"Okay, here goes ... " She took a deep breath and dived straight in. "How are things at home, Jethro?"

He looked up at her as if he'd just been slapped in the face. "Bingo," she thought. She rarely used his name so it had a real impact when she did.

"So," she prompted. "Home?"

He looked uncomfortable. He was clearly wishing he hadn't made the appointment.

"Well? Come on, I can tell you want to. Just like we practiced. Big breath and ..." She held out her hands in encouragement. "You can do it, Popeye, I know you can ... "

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and began, "People ask me all the time how she is and how we are both doing. And we both say 'fine' and 'it's great to get back to normal', stuff like that ..."

"But it's not fine is it?"

He looked down at his hands, picked at a fingernail, laced his fingers together, readjusted his sitting position, cleared his throat. Then looked up very briefly and with a voice barely above a whisper answered, "No, it's not fine and it's anything but normal."

"Who can say what 'normal' is anyway?" Grace argued.

"Okay, not 'normal' then. It's not like it was before. Not remotely."

"Well she's been through a terrible experience. You gotta expect it to take time ... You just gotta be patient."

He pointed an accusing finger at her. "And everybody is telling me to be patient. I know I have to be patient. But sometimes she looks at me as if she doesn't even know who I am. Like I'm a total stranger."

"Well maybe she's in the middle of a flashback when that happens? Have you asked her about it?" 

He gave her 'the look' and then returned to the offending fingernail.

"Oh, silly me, I forgot who I was talking to for a moment there." Grace threw up her hands in exasperation. "I don't believe you sometimes! You ask people questions for a living! Hello?!" 

"Yeah, but I can't ask her like that. Besides, 'the stare' doesn't work on her - she sees right through it."

"And you can't adapt?!" Grace suggested sarcastically.

He chose to ignore her last point and continued on the course he'd planned on his drive in. "We put on a good show for anyone who comes over. They would never suspect. They expect her to be a bit quiet, you know. They don't ask, except Ducky of course - He suggested I talk to you. But when we're alone, it's like I'm sharing with a room mate. We talk about nothing of any consequence. We sit in uncomfortable silences. We're polite to each other ..." 

There was a pause. He looked away into the distance. "And I can see ... I can see she is so totally alone but she won't let me anywhere near her."

\---

"And how are things in the bedroom?" Grace ventured.

He glared at her. "Why does everything come down to sex with you people?"

"Hey, you mentioned it first. You said 'she won't let me anywhere near her'. I just followed that thought."

"We tried a couple of times when she first got home. But she was too ... And I ..." He continued to look around the room, and at the pot plant and anywhere except Grace..

She nodded towards his crotch. "You have trouble keeping the trooper to attention there, Popeye?"

"I am not discussing that with you." He said fiercely, glaring at her  
.  


"I'll take that as a 'yes' then," she said, answering her own question.

"... I was just so worried I would hurt her." He mumbled.

"That's a damned lie." Grace replied as straightforward as ever. He looked up at her in shock that she should even suggest such a thing. She corrected herself, "Okay, it's only a partial lie. I'm absolutely positive that the main part of you is very concerned not to hurt her." 

She leaned forward in her chair to make her point. "But a very small part of you, somewhere darker, more primeval, can't get over the fact that she was taken by another man against her will yes, but also ... against yours. And in that very deep, dark place inside of you, you blame her for it."

Gibbs jumped up from his chair, clearly very agitated. He paced the office, hands to his head. She wondered if she should have insisted he lock his gun away "No, no. That's not it. That's not it at all. You don't understand."

"So explain it to me." Grace pushed.

"I don't blame her..." He stared straight at her - distress clearly visible in his eyes. 

"I blame me. I blame me." He yelled. "All of this is my fault. If I hadn't lied to her, she would never have left and they would never have found her. If I had told her the truth from the get-go, none of this would have happened."

He sat back down exhausted his head in his hands. He felt utterly wretched. He looked it too, Grace thought. She wished life would just give him a break sometimes. 

"Look," she countered, "You have no way of knowing whether her leaving led to her capture. From what you've told me before, these guys were pretty determined. It sounds like it would have happened regardless. If not the Excelsior, then at your house or at her office or some place else."

"You cannot spend the rest of your life trying to guess what COULD have happened. You only have what DID happen and how that is going to affect the pair of you going forward. While you are wrapped up so completely in what could have/should have happened, you cannot help her and you cannot help yourself.

"And yes, it hurts you that she was taken by other men. That's the Neanderthal in you. You can't help that. But it's not her fault and it's not your fault. It's THEIR fault and they're dead and gone. They can not hurt either of you any more."

She sat quietly for a short while to let it all sink in. He certainly had plenty to think about on his drive home, that was for sure. He sat with his head still in his hands. Eventually, he spoke so softly it was a strain to hear him.

"I miss her, Grace. We live in the same house and we are worlds apart and I miss her so much. I miss the way she makes me laugh. I miss the way she puts up with my cooking. I miss her singing to the radio. I miss her kissing me and I miss holding her hand. It has very little to do with the bedroom. I miss my friend, I miss my wife."

She leaned over and patted his knee. "It'll come back. Maybe a little different, but it will come back. You just have to give her time. And ..."

"Be patient." He smiled to himself. "Yeah, I know Doc."

\---

It seemed a good place to stop. She deliberately broke the therapeutic bond between them for this session. "You okay Popeye? D'you need a moment? Would you like some water?" She asked.

"Yeah. Water would be good."

As she left the office, he took the opportunity to pinch the bridge of his nose and ease the tension that seemed to live permanently there these days. He wiped away the tears he had tried (and obviously failed) to hide.

Grace came back in with a bottle of spring water he felt obliged to swig. Who were either of them kidding?! He took a deep breath and looked at his watch. He squared his shoulders into the more familiar 'Gibbs' stance. "Gotta go," he said.

"Okay." She replied. "I'll bill you."

He squeezed her hand and headed towards the door. He stopped briefly in his tracks.

"Back in the real world, we were wondering if you would like to come over for dinner one night next week? As our friend - not our therapist."

"That depends. Who's cooking?" Grace asked.

He laughed gently and grinned at her. "She is."

"In that case, I'd be delighted. I'll bring dessert. Just let me know which day and I'll make sure I'm free."

He nodded and left the office, closing the door behind him. She slumped into her chair utterly drained. She buzzed her assistant and cancelled her 4:30 appointment.

☆☆☆

Grace knocked on the front door. Not so long ago it would have been open. It was mid afternoon. She knew Gibbs was at work. It was the lady of the house she had come to see. She smiled as she answered the door.

"It's good to see ya!" Grace said as she crossed the threshold. "You healing all right? Doctors treating you okay?"

"Yeah. It's all going to plan I think."

"Good ... That's good." There was an awkward silence.

Grace held up the bag she'd been carrying. "I brought tiramisu and a couple bottles of chardonnay. Both need to be chilled." She walked over to the refrigerator. "Woah, there's real food in here! Fruit and everything!"

"Well I'm home a lot these days - means I can cook and shop. And people bring us stuff."

"Well I won't be making this a habit," said Grace. "This is the only dessert I can make! Hey, just look at us, all domestic and shit!"

"Yeah! Who'd have thought it?!" 

Another awkward silence ...

"You missing work Hon? You used to be such a very busy lady." Grace asked.

"Part of me does. And I'm not planning on staying at home permanently. But I don't think work's the right place for me at the moment - too close. And anyway, I'm still keeping busy. I read, I work in the garden. I sew - I haven't done that for years. Jethro put up a work table for me in Kelly's room."

 _"Kelly's Room - that was a subject for another day,"_ Grace thought. "So what do you make?" She asked.

"Oh all sorts of things. Whatever takes my fancy. I like being creative. It's very therapeutic."

"Kinda like Popeye and his boats?"

"Yeah, but a lot easier to get out of the house!" They both laughed. The walls beginning to break down between them.

\---

"Say, what d'ya say we crack open one of those bottles now?" Suggested Grace.

"That sounds good to me," she agreed. She poured two healthy glasses of wine and handed one to Grace. Then she sat on the couch and sighed deeply. She felt relaxed for once.

"So how's it really going?" Grace asked, sitting next to her.

"Straight to the point as usual, Grace?"

"Well I can dance the dance if you want me to? We both know the routine. I thought I'd save us some time. And then we can get on with a nice dinner as friends."

"How's it really going? ... I feel like I'm not really here. I mean, I go through the motions everyday. Get up. Get dressed. Do stuff. Go to bed and repeat. But I feel like I'm watching everything from behind my own eyes. And I know it's a stage, and I know it will improve in time. I guess I'm just a bit impatient.“

“And how're things with Popeye?" Grace ventured.

"Why? What has he said?"

"Nothing - When does he ever? But if he had, I couldn't tell you. And anyway, I'm asking you?"

"How are things?" She thought for a moment. How to put it kindly?

"Smothering. It's like living with a parent. He watches me constantly. He treats me like a child. He panics if I lock the bathroom door. He won't let me climb a ladder or drive the car or carry anything. It's like I'm going to shatter into a million pieces at any minute if I so much as sneeze. It's a relief when he works late or finally goes down to the basement." She sighed deeply. "... I miss the old Jethro. The fun Jethro."

"Popeye is fun?" Said Grace in disbelief. She laughed at Grace's reaction.

"Yes he is and I miss him. This new one is so overbearing, so cloying."

"He's just being protective. He nearly lost you. Have you tried talking to him about it?" They looked at each other. Grace waved a hand dismissively at her. "Okay, okay, forget I asked that. I should've known better."

"You know, we don't even kiss any more." she confided. "But it's not him, it's me. I can't bring myself to kiss him any more. God, I think I miss that most of all. He is so good at it."

"He is? ..." Grace asked in astonishment. "Wait a minute - Is this the same man we're talking about? Tall, brooding, awful haircut?"

She smiled again. There was so much about Gibbs that nobody knew. "Yes, it's the same man."

"Well, If he's so great and so fun and all, why won't you kiss him? "

She took a sip of her wine and stopped to think of the best way to explain. Finally, she came to a conclusion. "Because I'm afraid he'll see that I'm a fraud - just pretending to be alive. I'm afraid he will reject me now that I'm ... " Again, she searched for the right word. The only one that came to mind was "tainted."

Grace paused for a moment. This was not an uncommon response from victims. Finally, she challenged, "Do you honestly think that or is that what you're hoping for?"

"What are you saying?"

"Well if he rejects you and your relationship dies, you can blame yourself and keep yourself isolated and safe for the rest of your days. And then it will all go away and you don't have to think about it ever again. Nice and safe ... and alone. No risk of ever being hurt again."

"Would that be such a bad thing for either of us? I can't bear him looking at me sometimes. He looks at me with such pity or sometimes with shame - that's the worst. I see it in his eyes."

"Or maybe, just maybe he looks at you with concern and with fear because he sees all this going on inside you and doesn't know what to do to help. And being so bad with his own feelings, he turns away because that's the only way he knows." She paused to let the message sink in. "... just something to think about for a while."

Grace stood to break them back into the real world - That was enough for one day. She reached out a hand to her friend. "Shall we get this dinner finished?"

☆☆☆

Dinner was good. Conversation, if a little neutral, flowed. Grace looked at the two people sitting on the couch in front of her. They were clearly just going through the motions. Let’s face it, they had had months to practice play acting “the happy couple”. She watched them trying so hard when she knew, she knew they were both dying inside. Neither one able, for whatever reason, to reach out to the other. 

And she'd had enough of it! It was time to do some thing about it or her name wasn’t Grace Cecile Irma Confelone!

\---

"Right, you two. Listen up. You're my friends as well as my clients and I can't stand seeing the two of you like this, I just can't. I'm not a couples therapist but I still read. I know from both of you that you are having intimacy issues at the moment, so I'm going to talk you through an exercise I want you to try."

They looked at each other accusingly.

"Did you tell her ...?”

"No, but you must have said something about ..."

"Will you just be quiet the pair of you. You both told me and you both know that you both told me. Now, glasses down please."

They looked at each other. They looked at Grace. She was very serious and she wasn't taking 'no' for an answer. They stared at her and sighed simultaneously. They both put their drinks down with a 'whatever-this-is-it-isn't-going-to-work' expression on their faces. 

_"Well that was better than an outright 'no',"_ thought Grace hopefully.. "Good." She said patiently. "Right ... Relax. None of this is going to be difficult. It will be easy - even for you, Popeye." She reassured them. "So, ready? Let's do this!” She said trying to muster up enough enthusiasm for the three of them. 

“Now, first I want you to sit round on the couch so you are facing each other and close enough that you can touch each other comfortably." 

They sat exactly where they were and kept looking at her. "Oh for Pete's sake!" Grace put down her own glass and waved her arms as if herding imaginary geese. "Come on, come on." She commanded in frustration. 

Reluctantly, the couple eventually shuffled round to comply. She thought they were further apart than they would have been six months ago, but then, six months ago they wouldn't have needed this intervention."Now, close your eyes."

"I feel ridiculous," complained Gibbs

"Quiet, Popeye. You're doing this. In the book they have you blindfolded but that's just bordering on kinky. Now, close your eyes ... both of you. You're at home. You're in a safe environment. And you trust me, don't you?"

There was more grumbling about quack ideas and the real world.

"Enough already!" Grace exclaimed. "At least give it a try. Come on, what have you got to lose? If nothing else, it will shut me up about it."

There was quiet, finally. "Perhaps, a little more wine next time," she thought. "Okay? Good. Now, with eyes closed I want you to reach out and hold each other's right hand."

She was relieved when their hands met without needing to see where the other was. That was a positive sign. "And now, without opening your eyes, I want you to tell me about the hand that you're holding. Who's going to go first?"

There was total silence. Both sat stock still, lips pressed tightly together. Grace looked heavenward for inspiration. This exercise was supposed to be fun and enjoyable. Whoever wrote it had clearly never met these two! "Popeye," she yelled. He jumped. "You're volunteered. Now tell me about the hand you are holding."

Gibbs mumbled something.

"What? I didn't hear that." Grace felt like a drill sergeant or a kindergarten teacher, she hadn't decided which yet. 

He tried again. "It's a small hand." 

"Yes,” Grace smiled. “Go on."

"And it's skin is soft and smooth."

"Good, keep going."

"It smells of lavender soap. Some of the nails are broken. And there's a band aid on the index finger." He caressed her hand with both of his now and kissed her finger tips before finishing with, "There are wedding rings on the third finger."

"That was great, Popeye. See? That wasn't so bad was it? ... Okay Olive, your turn."

With a sigh of her own she began, "This hand is much larger than mine. The skin is rougher. The fingers are long and the knuckles are more prominent. There are calluses on it. The nails are very short. And there’s a scar or scratch or something on the palm that I think is fairly new.”

"Yeah, a chisel slipped. Went straight in. Clean cut though - no big deal." He explained.

She coo-ed at him and rubbed his palm, kissing it gently. “Why didn’t you come and get me?”  


“It was late. Didn’t want to disturb you.” He mumbled self consciously.

\---

 _"Okay, that was sweet. They're not a total loss,"_ Grace thought. She smiled. 

"Hey, none of that. Stick with the program here. Now, still with eyes closed. I want you to put down the hand and reach for the other's face." There was less grumbling she noted - another good sign ... or they were just bored - it was always hard to tell with this pair. "Now, tell me about the face that you hold. Olive, you go first this time - it's only fair."

She didn't need to open her eyes to see his face. The image in her mind had helped keep her alive. She knew every line, every curve, every blemish - the scar below his right eye, the two moles on his jawline. Her hand wandered lightly over them.

"This is a strong face that needs a shave!" They both laughed. "It is an older face. There are lines around the eyes and mouth. The mouth is set in a straight line. It doesn't smile much these days."  


He lowered his head. She raised it again gently and ran her hand through his hair. "The hair is shorter at the sides than on top. It smells of soap and sawdust and coffee. The eyes are the most piercing blue I have ever seen. They are truly stunning. They can see right into your soul."

Grace was impressed. "Not bad. Not bad at all, Olive. Especially that last part. It's amazing what you can see with closed eyes. But good, well done." She turned to Gibbs. "Okay now you Popeye, it's your turn."

"I really don't see what this is supposed to ..." Gibbs began.

"Come on, she played her part now stop your whining and get on with it - it's only fair." Grace discovered that he could even give her 'the look' with his eyes closed. 

"Okay, okay. I heard you!" He protested. He leaned over and touched her face. It felt like lightening had struck her. He ran his hand across it gently.  


"This face is soft and smooth. There are just a few lines and they are small. There are some recent scars that are healing well. The hair is short too but getting longer. The ears are round. The lobes have little flower shaped studs in them. The eyes are wide and expressive and the richest mahogany brown and ... " His voice caught. " ... and they are crying." 

He wiped the tear away with his thumb. She turned her cheek into his hand. They sat in silence for a moment. They didn't need to speak to each other - there was plenty of communication going on between them.

☆☆☆

"Okay," said Grace, deliberately breaking the moment. "This is the final part of the exercise, then you can relax and I can go home knowing I tried my best. I need you to scooch forward for this part. You need to be much closer ... That's it. Now there's NO touching allowed in this part. Absolutely none. Got that?" They both nodded. 

"Okay, so still with eyes closed, l want you to lean in to one another until you think you are about six inches or so apart. That's it. Now, tell me what you feel."

She spoke without hesitation. "I can feel the heat of his body. I can feel his breath on my face. I can hear his breathing. It is quite steady." She smiled. "I can smell what we had for dinner and a hint of bourbon."

"I only had the one," he interrupted, defensively  
.  


"Hey, sshh," Grace chided. "Carry on, Olive."

"I can hear his heart beat. It's beating fast. And he is closer than six inches because I can feel the static between us."

He leaned all the way forward and kissed her tentatively on the mouth. She was startled for a moment. He took her face in his hands and kissed her more decisively, eventually sliding the rest of the way across, to wrap his arms around her as she responded to him.

 _"Wow, he really is a good kisser,_ " thought Grace in surprise as she stood and picked up her purse.  


"Time for me to leave." She said and headed for the door. She stopped and doubled back for a second. They were already laying together on the couch. He broke contact long enough to shout,  
"Goodbye Grace."

"Yeah," she said awkwardly. "I'll come back for that dish another time."

\---

She left quickly. She smiled as she climbed into her car. "Mission accomplished," she said to herself. "Or should that be missionary?!" She laughed at her own joke and pulled the car away from the house.  


****

***WARNING: EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT***

They lay quietly together on the couch wrapped in each others arms. They kissed tenderly as he held her body tightly to him. As she pulled away from the kiss he ran his fingers through her hair. “My God, I have missed you so much. I don’t ever want to lose you like that again.

She climbed over his body and off the couch. She held out her hand. “Come on.” She said. “Take me to bed, Jethro.” He kissed her hand tenderly as he stood and lead her up the stairs.

They stood together and slowly undressed one another. She kissed his wrist as she unbuttoned his cuffs. Kissed down his chest with every button of his shirt. 

He pulled her blouse up over her head kissing her lips as her head emerged from it. He held her tightly in his arms as he unhooked her bra and slid it gently from her body. He hands glided across her smooth soft skin. The feel of her virtually reducing him to tears. 

He knelt before her unzipped her skirt and pushed it and underwear down over her hips. She held onto him as she stepped out of them. He held her body to him and enveloped her in his arms. He lay his head on her chest and listened to her heart. It was a strong, healthy, reassuring beat. He kissed between her breasts before standing to capture her mouth once more.  


She undid his pants and repeated his actions. They stood naked together clinging to each other. She kissed his chest and ran her fingernails lightly down his back. He gasped and held her tighter. Eventually, she let go of him and climbed onto the bed. She lay among the pillows and covers. She reached for his hand. “Come here,” she asked. “Come and lay with me.”

“I don't want to hurt you.” he whispered.

“You could never hurt me. I've known that for years remember?”

He climbed onto the bed and lay beside her as they kissed once more. The kiss grew in intensity. She hips rising to his, pleading silently for him. She parted her legs and he rolled his body into space they provided. She wrapped her legs around his. “Are you sure?” he asked. 

“I'm sure,” she replied. She pushed her hips against his, willing him on. He gradually sank into her body. His breath gasping at the intensity of sensations surrounding him. He thought he might die from the overwhelming stimulation alone.

\---

He was lost and he knew it. Lost in the moment. Lost to rational thought. Lost to self control. Lost to her body - The smell of her hair. The feel of her skin against his. The sound she made with each tentative thrust of his body. The feel of her gasped breath against his cheek. There was no going back now.

Soft, lingering kisses in the beginning were replaced by stronger, hungrier and more demanding ones. Gentle caresses, fingers fluttering through his hair were replaced by strong arms clutching desperately at his back. Finger nails scraping against skin in an attempt to keep him exactly where he was. "Don't you dare leave me. Not yet. Not yet," they screamed silently to him.

Her legs entwined with his. There was no way of telling where his body ended and hers began. She lifted her hips to meet his in their synchronised dance - Her foot pressing against his calf for extra leverage. She let out a muffled half cry of pleasure as he sank into her - her body tightening around him still further. Her cries became less muffled. "Go on," they told him. "Go on. Give me more. Give me all. I will always be yours."

He was lost to the outside world. It ceased to exist outside this room, outside this bed. She tilted her hips up further and wrapped her legs around his waist. It left her completely open to him. He sank deeper still within her. Her soft moist folds surrounded him squeezing tighter in a frantic rhythm. The noises ceased as she focused in on her own body and the release it craved. He knew this sign. Knew it well. The calm before. A sudden cry. A cross between a scream and a laugh. Her body arched against him, writhing uncontrollably beneath him. She bit his shoulder. The sudden pain sent a shock wave through him ... And he was lost.

Lost to the carnal instinct within him. He was no longer aware of her soul, merely her body. Her breasts against his chest, her legs around his waist. Her hot, wet centre holding him tightly within. She was begging for him now. Begging for all that was his. "Come for me, my Darling. Come deep for me."

And he was lost. He pounded into her with uncontrolled abandon. One last goal remaining. To lose himself completely to her. With a triumphant cry of his own he made one final thrust deep within her. She felt him pulse against her as he released hIs life's essence to her.

He sank slowly against her, exhausted, eyes closed. He was still lost. He pressed his face against the nape of her neck. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and once again entwined their legs. She listened to his breathing as it steadied once more. She rocked them both gently, soporifically as they lay quietly together for the first time in months.

The scents of her surrounded him - her skin, her perfume, her sex. He felt contented and safe. He broke her embrace and leaned over to kiss her tenderly. When they parted she looked up at him and smiled sleepily. He rolled around her and encircled her in his arms. They spooned peacefully together. He pressed his mouth against her ear. "I love you" he whispered to his already sleeping wife. He kissed her ear, settled beside her and closed hIs eyes.

His was found.


	18. Temporary Insanity

****

**Chapter Eighteen - Temporary Insanity**

She sat at the dinner table her head laying on folded arms. To the casual observer she may just have put her head down for a nap.

On the table lay a greeting card addressed to a neighbour's house. The card said 'Get Well Soon'. It was signed by Samuel. "Be well, Darling," he wrote. "And keep safe - the city can be a dangerous place." She had torn it in half and thrown it on the table in disgust.

Next to it was a single sheet of yellow paper torn from a legal pad. Just five words scratched across the page - The ink smeared from tears rained upon it. 

_"I will never be free,"_ it read.

\---

The two friends hustled into the house all bluster and camaraderie. "Hey Babe," Gibbs laughed as he walked through the door. He jerked a thumb at Fornell. "I found this weird guy outside carrying take-out. I guess we should be nice to him at least 'til he leaves."

"Oh thanks," grinned Tobias in return. "And I bought your favourite Thai shrimp too. How rude is that?!" He looked over to the table. The smile left his face. "Something's wrong!" He choked. The bag of food fell to the floor as the two men ran across the house.

Gibbs reached her first. "Babe? Babe?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Babe, look at me. Look at me." She made a faint groan and fell limply against him.

Tobias called 911. As he spoke to the operator the note caught his eye. "Oh Lord, no."

"What?" Snapped Gibbs. Tobias held up the note. Gibbs shook her with more vigour. He anxiously shouted, "Babe, wake up. Babe, listen to me. Listen to me! What did you take? Come on, wake up now. What was it?"

He lay her down on the floor and ran to the kitchen. He ran a glass of water and poured a large dose of salt into it. He sat her against his shoulder and poured the water slowly into her mouth. She fought him weakly, to no avail. The salt water did its job. She began to wretch. A large quantity of half digested pills were deposited on the floor. "Tobias, can you get me another glass and then check the bathroom? - I think these are her painkillers."

As Tobias ran up the stairs he could hear his friend trying desperately to comfort her. "I know Babe, but you gotta let me do this. Come on now. That's my girl. That's it. I'm sorry, I know it's bad. That's it, now. I think we got most of them. That's my girl."

Tobias checked the bathroom. Sure enough, in the waste bin were two empty pharmacy bottles. He took them downstairs for the paramedics. They wheeled her away into a waiting ambulance, Gibbs looked at Fornell, an apology in his eyes. Tobias shook his head imperceptibly.

"Go be with your wife," Tobias replied. "I'll clean up here and follow behind." Gibbs nodded a silent thank you as they closed the ambulance doors.

\---

She lay in the hospital bed staring at one corner of the floor. She could see on the very corner of the base board, a small chip of paint had flaked off. The bare wood showed through. 

_"Jethro could tell me what type of wood that is - Just from that chip. He's clever like that. With that chip of wood. The one in the corner there. And the paint. The brush strokes in the paint. He'd have done a better job with that too. With the paint, on the wood, with the chip, in the corner. That corner there with the chip. In the wood with the paint."_

Gibbs sat on the bed holding her hand. She stared at the corner of the room. He whispered sweet nothings and babbled about dull domestic trivia just for something to say. He got no response. She continued to stare at the corner, unblinking. He heard movement behind him. A hand touched his shoulder. "How's she doing?" Whispered Tobias.

"They pumped her stomach, cleaned her up. They're gonna monitor her overnight - they don't know how much she ingested before we got there. She hasn't spoken or made eye contact since we got here. " He shrugged and bowed his head. There was nothing else to say.

Tobias paced nervously behind his friend. His next sentence was likely to cause some distress. He sat down, next to Gibbs and looked him meaningfully in the eye. "Gibbs, the docs are here - Ducky and Grace. They need to talk to you." Said Tobias softly. Gibbs nodded. He knew what was coming. He left Tobias sitting on the bed with her and headed out into the hallway. The two doctors led him into a side room and closed the door.

"Hey Popeye, how're you doing?"

"How am I doing? Really Grace? You need to ask?"

"No, I need to know." She replied. "I need you to sign this for me and I need to know you're okay with it."

His face was a picture of pain. "No, I'm not okay with it." He pointed to the form in Grace's hand. "I know what that is. I'm not as stupid as I look. I know why you're here, the two of you. I can't sign that. I can't betray her like that."

"Jethro, it needs three signatures. Her physician, her psychiatrist and her next of kin. You're the only kin she has." Explained Ducky.

"She can come home with me," he replied defiantly. "I can take care of her there." 

Dr. Mallard shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid I must respectfully disagree with you this time, Jethro. I know you're used to being able to fix things. But this time, Dear Boy, you can't fix any of this. She needs intensive, professional support. And she can't get that at home. At least not yet. You have to let Grace do her job."

Gibbs looked into his old friend's eyes. There was a deep sorrow within them. He knew the good doctor was right. He knew he was out of his depth this time. His expression broke for the tiniest of moments. With a heavy heart he held out his hand for the document. It shook as he read it. He took a pen from his jacket pocket then hesitated.

"You know I can get a court order if I have to." Said Grace. "Don't make me have to, Gibbs. It is better coming from you, trust me. She will understand. It's not like the old days. It's not forever. It's just for a while. This is how you can fix things for her. This is how you help her now."

He closed his eyes briefly and then quickly signed the page. He threw the form at the others as if it was contaminated. He went back into her room and pushed passed Fornell roughly. He wrapped his arms around her. He held her face to his chest and kissed her head. He whispered in her ear, "You know I had to sign it Babe. You know I had to. I can't help you on my own. Please forgive me. I'm not giving up on you, you just need more than I can do. Try to understand, Babe. Try for me."

She did not respond to his words or his touch. She continued to stare unblinking at the corner of the room.

 _"Jethro could make that chip good as new. He could fill it and sand it and repaint it. That chip. In the wood, in the corner there."_ She thought.

\---

Tobias drove his friend home. They sat quietly together, barely talking. They drank until Gibbs passed out on the couch - a combination of heartache, exhaustion and alcohol.

He threw a blanket over a fitfully sleeping Gibbs, cleared away the empty bottle and glasses and then finally sat down at the table. He looked at the card and her note. His hand to his mouth. A single sob escaped from behind his fingers. This could not be allowed to continue. Hadn't they both been through enough? He had to do something. 

☆☆☆

"Hey Ellie, Abby tells me you guys are going across to the hospital. May I come along?"  


"Of course. I think they would love to see you, Agent Pride." Ellie replied.  


"How are they both doing?" Pride asked with concern.

Ellie thought for a moment. It wasn't like the last time Mrs. G. was in hospital. In her own way, she was okay where she was. Gibbs on the other hand, was slowly succumbing to a broken heart.  


"Things are really difficult at the moment." Was all Ellie could think to say.  


"In what way?" Asked Pride.  


"I think it's easier if you just come with us." She suggested.

\---

She sat in the Day Room near a window doing a jigsaw puzzle. She concentrated hard on her search among the asymmetric pieces. Gibbs sat next to her watching her face intently, desperately seeking the tiniest glimpse of the person inside. He'd seen some progress recently, but it didn't seem likely today.

King walked up to the table. Gibbs stood, and shook his friend's hand before the two men embraced each other. "You're a sight for sore eyes, my Brother." Exclaimed Gibbs. "It's good to see you." 

"I came as soon as I could," Pride answered. He knelt down beside her, smiling broadly.

"Hey Boo" he said gently. "How are you today?"  


She ignored him completely not taking her eyes from the puzzle board. She started to rock slightly. Her eyes filled with tears. One managed to escape. King wiped it away with his thumb before gently taking her hand.

"Well, you just concentrate on getting well okay? And when you're all better the two of you can come and spend time with me in N'Orleans and we'll have us a fine ol' time together."

He tried hard to sound cheerful. His forced smile hurt his face. She continued to make no kind of connection with him. She pulled her hand away and turned back to her puzzle. As Pride left to seek out his friend, Abby went to join her. She sat down at the table. "I brought you some of my peanut cookies you like. I left them in your room and a Daniel Craig movie - he is awesome in it."

There was the slightest flicker of response. "Thank you." she whispered, her only words all morning.

"You're very welcome." Said Abby cheerfully. "Can I help with your puzzle?" She nodded very slightly. The two women sat quietly together.

\---

"How're you keeping?" King asked of Gibbs. His friend shrugged, shook his head and said nothing. It wasn't necessary. It was plain for King to see. The man was hanging on by a thread.

They walked across to her room and were met by Bishop. "Boss, I picked up the dirty laundry and I left some magazines and chocolate." She handed him the laundry bag. "Say, how about I come over tonight and make you guys some dinner?"

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary Ellie," said Pride. "I'll take care of that." He put his arm around Gibbs shoulder and led him towards the door. "Let's leave the gals to it and get you home."

\---

The food remained untouched on either plate. The beer was going down smoothly, however. It helped King prise a little more information from his friend.

"So why did she start rocking like that when I came over?"

"She was upset. She doesn't like new people seeing her that way. She was the same when Abby and Bishop started visiting. She's been better than that. Must just be a bad day for some reason. Grace gets whole sentences out of her some days."

He took a deep breath and let out a shuddering sigh. He looked around the house as if for the first time. "It's so quiet in here. There's no radio on in the kitchen. She sings along to almost everything! There's no flowers. There are no books lying around. There are always books everywhere - she reads like three or four at a time. It's so empty here now. I spray her perfume around sometimes - she'll not thank me for that."

There was a long uncomfortable silence as each man studied his beer bottle for the meaning of life. Suddenly Gibbs began to speak again. His confession took King by surprise.

"She's braver than me. When Shannon and Kelly were killed, I guess I went temporarily insane. I did some things I'm not proud of and that didn't really help in the long run. I considered taking my own life. Got as far as loading the gun and holding it to my head - but I never had the guts to go through with it. I guess I wasn't strong enough." He nodded towards the dinner table. "She was strong enough. You gotta admire her for that." 

He stood, drained his beer bottle and then reached for the Bourbon on the mantelpiece. He took a long slug straight from the bottle before staggering against his friend.

"It's getting late." Said King. "Tobias is picking me up soon. Time for you to get some sleep, Pal."  


"Oh I'll just stay down here," replied Gibbs.  


"You will not!" Said Pride firmly. "She will have my guts for garters if she finds out I let you start sleeping on the couch again. Now get your ass up those stairs." He ordered - the fake smile hurting him once more.  


Gibbs staggered up the stairs none too steady on his feet. Tobias opened the front door and nodded to Pride.

"He okay?"

"No"

"Should we stay?" 

"He'll be fine once he's out." Replied Pride. There was a thud from the upper floor. The friends took the stairs two at a time. 

He lay face down across the middle of their bed fully clothed. The thud had been the bottle hitting the floor as it slipped from his unconscious fingers. His other hand held her nightgown. They took the previous night's blanket and put it over him.

"At least you got him up the stairs," Said Tobias. "That's further than I got."

\---

They closed the front door quietly and climbed into Fornell's car. They looked at each other. Pride's expression was serious, his eyes dark. 

"This has to end." He said to Fornell. Understanding flashed between the two men. "And we have to end it."

☆☆☆

The two agents strode purposefully into the prison visitors' room. Samuel was seated in the middle of the row. He looked confused. He had no idea who his visitors were. He greeted them nervously.

Fornell picked up the intercom hand set. "Good afternoon," he said politely. "You won't know who I am but I know you. I believe you are acquainted with some friends of mine - Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and his wife. My name is Tobias Fornell; FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell and this is my NCIS associate Special Agent Dwayne Pride."

"So?" Samuel shrugged. "I don't have anything to say to you and even less to say to him; but her? Oh I have a lot I could say to her."

Tobias' hands automatically closed into fists. The handset creeked under the extra strain suddenly being exerted upon it. What he wouldn't give for just ten minutes with this piece of ... Pride took the handset from him. He cast a look at Tobias _"Stick to the plan."_ It said. 

"As my friend here indicated we are good friends of the Gibbses. They weren't able to visit today because Mrs. Gibbs is extremely ill right now. But then, you already know that don't you, Samuel?" The smile slowly disappeared from Pride's face - a cold and menacing expression taking its place.

Fornell took over again having refocussed. His voice loud, it carried across the room of visitors. "Special Agent Gibbs was hoping to be here to thank you personally, for all the help and information you have provided to aid in the capture of three fugitives. (Who sadly, didn't survive.) So we are here on behalf of the FBI and Naval Criminal Investigation Service to express our gratitude. We wouldn't have been able to find these three wanted criminals without your help."  


Samuel's face paled. "Wh-what are you talking about, man? I don't know what you're talking about." He turned to the inmate next to him who was paying far more attention to Samuel's conversation than he was his own. Samuel shrugged nervously at him. "I have no clue what they're talking about."

"Oh come now, don't be so modest." Beseeched Fornell. "True, the first couple of times you gave us only petty criminals, drug dealers and the like; but that last one? The Fairytale Killer and his two apprentices. Why, you hit the jackpot, my friend!" Shouted Fornell smiling happily.

"We couldn't have done it without you." Added Pride. "So we felt we really had to come and thank you personally. And you reward package is being processed as we speak. I'm sure you'll be a lot more comfortable in the new open prison."

The rest of the visitors in the room had halted their conversations and were staring at the two men in interest. Tobias held up his badge."It's okay folks, we're the good guys - we've just come to see our good friend Samuel, here. Nobody says thank you these days for a good job, well done. Have you noticed? Such a shame, so we decided we would change that."

Conversations slowly resumed at the other booths. Inmates started to look at Samuel menacingly. Tobias leaned into the glass. He held his badge to it so that Samuel (and with luck, other inmates) could see it. He spoke through gritted teeth. "Sleep well tonight you son-of-a-bitch. I suspect it's the last time you will."

\--- 

Pride and Fornell got up from the desk. They turned and left without a single backward glance. They could hear Samuel's protests as he was led away from the booth. The closer to the main prison he got, the louder they became. Clearly nobody believed him on either side of the glass. 

They shook hands with the guards on duty, who nodded. "Give Agent and Mrs. Gibbs our best," one of them said.

"Thank you, we will," answered Pride.

\---

They climbed back into Fornell's sedan and looked at each other in satisfaction. 

"Now, we wait." Said Tobias. "It won't be long. Prison justice is pretty swift."


	19. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fluff and nonsense to clear the palette and make you smile. (If you've got this far, you've earned it!).  
> A x

****

****

****

****

****

****

****

****

**FIVE**

****

****

**Part III**

****

****

**Onward**

**Chapter Nineteen - Recovery**

  


Gibbs stood outside the NCIS main building waiting for his ride. A decent cup of coffee in hand, a sunny day and a bit of peace and quiet. All was well. DiNozzo joined him - so much for the peace and quiet ...

"Boss" 

DiNozzo"

"She picking you up today?" .

"Yeah. At least it means she leaves the house. She's got kinda agoraphobic lately. Grace thought this might help." 

The yellow and black muscle car roared around the corner, the back end swinging wildly toward the opposite curb and assorted parked cars before straightening out. "Oh no," Gibbs gasped. He visibly paled.

DiNozzo pointed timidly at the approaching vehicle. "Isn't that your Dodge Charger?" He asked unsure if the unfolding situation was worrying or funny. .

"Uh - huh," Gibbs grunted. He couldn't take his eyes off the car as it screeched around the parking lot erratically. She spotted him and waved frantically. "Put your hand back on the wheel," he muttered through gritted teeth; all the while faking a smile.

A yellow and black blur pulled to a stop with a squeal of tires and brakes. She revved the engine noisily before finally switching the engine off. "I LOVE this car. I absolutely LOVE it." She shouted through the open window. .

Tony leaned into the car to greet her. "I can see that. Are you sure you're supposed to be driving it?" .

"Oh sure,” she waved a hand dismissively. “Jethro doesn't mind - he loves me." .

She grinned at DiNozzo. He recognised the wide pupils and glassy expression. No, it couldn't be ... but he had to ask. "Boss, is she high?" He questioned over his shoulder. .

Gibbs closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Today had been going reasonably well so far but he had the feeling that that was all about to change 

"Yes, yes she probably is. Grace gave her a prescription for dope - Said it would help with her anxiety. It's doing nothing for mine. The first lot stank out the house. This time she bought cookies and lollipops or something." He leaned in through the driver's window and took the keys out of the ignition. 

"Hey, what d'ya do that for?” she pouted. .

"I'm driving home." Gibbs replied. 

"I can do that." She enthused. 

"No. No you really can't." He opened the driver's side door. "Come on, swap places with me." 

She climbed out of the car llike an petulant teenager, staggered slightly and fell into a grinning DiNozzo. "Careful there Mrs. G. We don't want you back in the hospital."

"No chance of that." She declared. "I'm never going back to one of those places." She took a lollipop out of her pocket, took off the wrapper and put it in her mouth.

"Would you like one?" She offered agent and then whispered conspiratorially, "They're special."

"That's quite all right." Tony laughed. "I think you've had enough for both of us."

She shrugged. "Oh, okay ... " Her attention flitted back to the car. "Hey," She said to anyone who would listen, "Did you know that this car," she smacked the hood of the car heavily with the palm of her hand, " ... this car has a manual transmission?" She shook her head, answering her own question, "No, neither did I! It took me a while to get the hang of it but once I did, I got to 110 on the freeway. It was sw-e-et." 

Gibbs rested his head on the roof of his precious car. He looked pained beyond belief. DiNozzo however, was thoroughly enjoying the conversation. He laughed. "Never a traffic cop around when you need one, eh Boss?" He took her arm and helped her into the passenger seat. "Time to go home, Mrs. G. You've been a naughty, naughty girl and had far too much ... um ... excitement for one day." He leaned across her to secure her seat belt

She traced a fingernail across his shoulders. "I can be much naughtier you know." She flirted.

DiNozzo bumped the back of his head on the roof of the car as he struggled to get out as fast as humanly possible. He laughed nervously, "I'm sure you can but if I respond to that comment, I'm likely to get shot" .

He peered through the passenger window to speak to Gibbs. "Don't get mad Boss. She doesn't mean anything by it." He started to laugh again. "She's completely off her face!"

Gibbs waved the comment away. "I know, I know. Just remind me to bring the keys with me tomorrow ... All of them."

"Sure thing, Boss. Good night and good luck."

"Thanks,” Gibbs replied, He nodded towards his stoned wife who was currently singing along to a radio only she could hear. “I think I'm gonna need it." 

As he made his way across the lot to his own car, DiNozzo caught just the tail end of a conversation. “You're not my Dad," he heard her complain belligerently.

He laughed. "Good luck indeed, Boss." 

☆☆☆  
  


The five men sat around the table at Chez Gibbs. Cards in hand. Beers and snacks within easy reach. There was female chatter and laughter coming from upstairs. 

"I'll take two," said Tobias. Vance threw him two new cards for the old ones Fornell sent skimming across the table. "Why is it that women take so long to get ready and have to do it in groups?" Fornell wondered aloud. 

"You know it wasn't until the fifteenth century or so that women started out-dressing men." Ducky informed them. "Before that, humans tended to follow the rest of the animal kingdom where the male was the more flamboyantly attired - just look at the avian kingdom for example.

Women dressing in groups stemmed from some of the more bizarre fashion trends of yesteryear that would have required a helper to get into a garment. The same being true for the length of time taken. Hmm, it often involved great swathes of fabric and elaborate frames. Some of them even had hinges. No wonder it took so long." Ducky continued. 

"Yeah but hours, doc? What are they doing up there?" DiNozzo questioned

"The married or once married men in this room know never to ask that question." Leon explained.

"And to tell them they look great no matter what the actual outcome." Added Tobias.

"Oh, yes," agreed Gibbs and Vance. "They look great. Remember that." 

\---

There was a clatter of high heels on the stairs.

"So, what do you think?" She asked as she and Abby crossed the room towards them. She wore a black leather corset dress and high ankle boots with polished metal heels. The shock of white hair almost back to its original length created a huge impact on the eye against the leather.

"Doesn't she look great?" Asked Abby pleased with the results of her labour.

"Oh yes, you both look great." The men all agreed. 

She turned around to face Gibbs. "Sweetheart, can you tighten this for me?" She asked, pulling at the lacing on the dress.

"Sure, come over here," he put his cards down. The other men watched in reverence as he expertly adjusted the lacing and pulled it tight in the waist. He tied a elaborate knot. "I don't want this thing coming undone half way through the show." He patted her on the butt to send her on her way. "Enjoy your concert." 

She leaned forward, grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him sensually fully aware of their audience. She wiped lipstick from his lips as she stood. Gibbs cleared his throat and glanced awkwardly at his friends. "Well, er ... have fun ... Um ... See you later."

\---

Tony stared open mouthed at Gibbs then grinned salaciously. "Not just great, Gibbs. Wow, with the hair and the heels and the leather. She looks really, really ho- ..."

The other men were wincing at him. Tobias was making cutting motions with his hand across his throat and shaking his head. Gibbs stared menacingly at him. " ... ho-wholesomely great. Yeah, really, really ... great." He coughed. Feverishly attempting to change the subject, he asked, "So who are they going to see?"

Gibbs shrugged dismissively. "Oh I don't know. Some band Abby likes. All I know is its loud and you can't hear the words. She's decided she likes that sort of music all of a sudden."

"Oh she's just letting off a little steam. I'll see you and raise you another ten." Explained Ducky.

"Is that your professional opinion Doctor? Fold." said Gibbs.

"After an experience like hers, I'm sure she has been doing some re-evaluation. This will likely include a list of things she feels she should have done by now. So she's ticking off a few boxes. It's a perfectly healthy reaction."

"Well that would explain the tattoo two weeks ago." Gibbs remarked. 

"She got a tattoo?!" Laughed Leon. "What is it?"

"More interestingly, where is it?" Questioned Di Nozzo.

Gibbs held up his thumb and index finger. "It's a little flower about an inch across and no, I'm not telling you where."

"Can we guess? Call." Asked Tobias "Is it on her behind?"

"No it's not on her behind!" Gibbs replied irritably. "And I told you I'm not saying."

"Aw come on! Why'd'ya mention it if you weren't going to tell us?" Tobias shot back. Gibbs sighed. He looked around at the other men. They were all staring at him with terminal curiosity. "This is just between us, right?"

"Oh, of course" the others eagerly agreed.

"Okay. It's on her inside thigh. It covers a scar she has there. She calls it her passion flower ... because if I get as far as the flower then ... There I told you. Happy now?" 

"Awesome," Tony grinned again from ear to ear. "I may have underestimated the older woman before now. Maybe I should be looking for a cougar."

"The concept of 'the cougar' is well known." Explained Ducky. "It's to do with the menopause - a woman's biological clock has run down. They no longer have the threat of an unwanted pregnancy. They are old enough to not care about conformity and more adept in the arts of love to get what they want. Hence, their libido goes into overdrive and they become positively predatory. It's a fascinating phenomenon."

"That is so cool!” DiNozzo drooled. “Hey, Tobias, what's the name of that dating app of yours?" He asked.

"Aren't you a bit old to be a toy boy these days DiNozzo?" spat Fornell.

"Bite me, Fornell," DiNozzo shot back. 

Without looking up from his beer, Gibbs complained, "Trust me, you need to be fit to cope with a woman in her fifties." Everyone else stopped what they were doing and looked at him. "What?" He took a swig realising he may have started something he was going to regret.

"You wanna explain that statement?" Asked Leon.

Gibbs shrugged, attempting a nonchalant air he did not feel. "Nothing. I'm just saying, that's all."

"Oh, No, no, no. You don't get away with that." Chimed Tobias.

"I was just making a general observation based on what I've heard, that's all," Gibbs spluttered, defensively. "Whose deal is it?" He asked hoping to change the subject - which was never going to happen.

"Oh dear. I think I may know." Chuckled Ducky. "Is she feeling better Jethro?"

"Oh, you could say that, yes Duck." Replied Gibbs.

"And are you reaping the benefits?"

"I suppose you could say that too, yes."

The good doctor chuckled again. The others watched the conversation between the two men as one would a tennis match. None were terribly sure what was going on. Until,

"Are you a bit tired, Dear Boy?"

"A bit tired? Duck, I'm exhausted! ... It's EVERY night! My back is killing me. I'm hoping this concert wears her out then I might get more than four hours sleep tonight. I mean, I even bought her ... well never mind what I bought. I got it on the internet. I thought it might help but it just made things worse."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," interrupted Vance, holding up his hands to break into the conversation. "You're sitting here around a table with four lonely, single guys complaining that you're having too much sex?"

Gibbs thought for a moment, "Well, when you put it that way ..."

“We do." Replied Leon.

"You know, you could just say 'no' for one night." Suggested Ducky.

"No way!" Exclaimed the others in unison.

\---

The two women came squealing and laughing through the front door. It had clearly been a good night.

"Good evening ladies" said Tony. "Did you have fun tonight?"

She swayed towards him slightly. "It was a-maz-zing! My feet hurt from jumping up and down ..."

"Really? In that outfit?" asked Tony.

She looked down at herself in confusion. "Yeah, why not? Anyway, my throat's sore from screaming and singing and I won't be able to hear for a WEEK! It was marvellous! And we're gonna to do it all again next month when they come back around, aren't we Abbs?"

“Absolutely,” Abby replied. “But now I gotta run. I got you home in one piece as promised. But my boss gets really grumpy if I'm late so I gotta go. See you in the morning Gibbs. And don't be mad at me, it wasn't my idea."

"What does that mean?" Asked Gibbs in near panic.

Abby rushed for the front door. "Night Gibbs-es," she shouted as she let it close behind her. 

Gibbs turned to his wife and asked suspiciously, "What wasn't Abby's idea? Did you get another tattoo?"

"Oh no, Silly." She said sitting on his lap, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and ran a fingernail around the nape of his neck. "You made me promise not to and I haven't." She bit his neck gently leaving a lipstick kiss for all to see. He tried very, very hard to ignore it. 

"Well, I guess we should all be calling it a night," said Leon failing to hide a smirk.

"Yes, I think you're probably right, Director," agreed Ducky. "Some of us need more sleep than others." He said also not quite hiding a smile.

"Don't stay up all night, kids, " Dinozzo couldn't resist.

Gibbs made to get up from the table as the others rose to leave.

"No no, you stay there and conserve your energy." Tobias said, deadpan, patting his friend on the shoulder. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, young lady. Don't break him, he's fragile - You look gorgeous by the way."

The four men left. As he closed the door behind him, Fornell caught a glimpse of her straddling Gibbs where he sat. He ran his knife down the corset lacing to free her from it.

"Lucky bastard," Fornell grumbled. He joined the others in time to hear DiNozzo ask.

"Can you believe that?"

"What?" Asked Ducky.

"That he can use the internet!"

The four men laughed briefly before heading on their way. 

  
  
***WARNING: EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT***

  


The four men left. As he closed the door behind him, Fornell caught a glimpse of her straddling Gibbs where he sat. "Lucky bastard," he grumbled. He closed the door in time to see Gibbs run his knife down the corset lacing to free her from it. 

"I thought they would never leave." She said kissing him behind the ear and then sucking his ear lobe.

The final strand of lacing gave way. The weight of the leather pulled the dress to the floor. Gibbs closed his knife and left it on the table. He looked down at her breasts appreciatively. She sat straighter across his lap. Her nipple right in front of his mouth. _What else could he do?_

He kissed it. He blew gently on it. The cool air making it pucker and harden as he watched. He licked it and played with it with his tongue until she sighed with pleasure. She bent his head to her. He drew her nipple into his mouth to suckle upon her. She felt her breasts swell and flush with desire. Her finger nail scratched at his neck as she ground herself against his lap. "Just like that," she encouraged. " No faster. Just like that." She groaned as she ran her fingers through his hair.

The desire they shared increased steadily between them. She knew exactly what she wanted and she would have it right now. She undid his zipper and reached for him. Already hard, already deliciously smooth and long. She rubbed herself against him making the tip of him wet, making herself wetter. She raised herself on the legs of the chair and lowered her body slowly down onto his beautifully smooth, hard shaft. The feel of him parting her and filling her so completely momentarily took her breath away. She rested her head against his cheek as she savoured the feel of him inside her. He gasped as she tightened her muscles around him. Then wrapping his arms tighter around her. “My God that's good,” he managed to whisper as he caught his breath. 

Grabbing hold of the back of his chair she raised and lowered her body onto his. Slowly to begin with. Just so, for a while. Gradually increasing momentum as her desire built. Her eager moans became louder as she took him harder and faster, gradually out of control. "Soon," she gasped. "Soon."

He groaned and buried his face between her breasts. _How could he even think about resisting this?_

She continued to grind against him. As she rubbed herself against him the sensations increased in intensity. They made it difficult to think. And still she kept on. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him. Oblivious to her surroundings, aware only of his body filling her and surrounding her. He ran his fingernails gently down her spine. Her skin tingled beneath his touch. She shivered with pleasure. She threw her head back, her hair cascading down to her waist. They looked into each other's eyes - each burning with equal need.

"Go on," he urged. "I'm not letting you go until you take it all from me. Go on." Her eyes were dark with passion. She ran her fingers through his hair pulling sharply. Tipping his head back she kissed him roughly. Devouring him. All the while her hips danced all the more wildly against him.

She gripped him tighter, her body moving faster against him, her moans higher and higher in pitch until finally, her back arched and she let out a cry of triumph, her entire body quaking against him in wave after wave that seemed to last an eternity. Finally, she clung to him breathless and exhausted.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly. For all his complaining earlier it was a joy to see her like this. So full of life and energy, so sure of the connection between them. Her kisses were becoming more demanding again. She held his face in her hands as her tongue explored his mouth. He couldn't let it end yet. 

He pushed her off his lap and stood. Then lifted her onto the table sweeping the remnants of the game away with his arm; pushing her back in a confetti of poker chips and playing cards. She laughed with glee. Her eyes sparkling as she waited for him. How he loved to hear her laugh. He smiled tenderly at her as he leaned forward to kiss her and rejoin with her. Back inside her felt as intense as their first time together. The heat of her body around him. The sight of her lying beneath him, the skin flushed with desire once more. Her mouth silently pleading to be kissed. 

There was no more time for foreplay. His body was beyond that now. He grabbed her hips and lifted her higher against him. He felt the metal heels of her shoes scratch against the back of his legs as she raised them to wrap around his waist, her ankles locking behind him. "I'm not letting you go until you give me it all." She paraphrased.

My God! She knew just how to tip him over the edge. She tore away the little self control he had left. He sank into her body with joyous abandon. The urgency of his movements increasing in seconds. “Now,” she coo-ed “Now.”

He cried out with every jerk of his hips as he pushed deeper into her until he had nothing more to give. He fell against her; his heart racing, his breath short, his head resting against her shoulder. When he eventually raised it look at her, she was smiling adoringly at him. _Why did he think he could ever say no?_

He kissed her. "That was incredible," he managed to whisper.

She beamed at him. "Why, thank you." She replied. It was time to untangle themselves from each other. She lowered her legs and stretched out her spine a little. He felt something dig into him. He looked down and sighed. Now, he understood.

"A belly bar? Really? 

  


☆☆☆

  


"Ducky, you have to do something. Please. It hurts so much."

"I'm sorry my Dear, but my patients don't usually talk back to me. You need to go back to your hospital physician."

"I can't Duck. He'll yell at me. And he might want me to stay. I can't go back there anymore. I hate it.

"And you think I won't yell at you, I suppose?"

"Well, you'll be nicer about it, I thought. Please, Ducky, I'm in real pain.” 

The good doctor relented. "All right," He sighed. "Get on the table and lie down. Let's have a look at it."

She lay on the autopsy table in front of him undoing her jeans as Palmer walked in. He got there in time to hear Dr. Mallard exclaim, "Oh my giddy aunt!"

She looked across at Palmer and smiled weakly at him. "Hi Jimmy." He did a double take and dropped his tray of newly sterilised equipment.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not used to our patients talking back," he flustered.

"So I've been told," she replied miserably.

"Mr. Palmer will you please stop gawping at our guest and fetch me some things from Supply - then I need you to take this swab up to Abby. And you can tell her that I hold her entirely responsible for this mess." Complained Mallard.

"Oh, and if you bump into Jethro, don't tell him I'm here, thanks." She added.

Palmer headed off upstairs with the precious swab and all his messages and lists. Ducky got back to his patient and his lecture.

"Do you know how dangerous this could have been? Whatever got into you, Girl?!"

"About a half dozen tequilas, I think. They just looked so pretty on the stand. I wanted one, so I had one. And stop yelling at Abby - I'm a grown woman. I make my own decisions."

"Well this one is going to have to come out and quickly. You have a dreadful infection - that's what all the pain and pus is about. Let me go and get some lidocaine. Lie still for a minute."

\---

Gibbs thundered through the doors in full rage. "What the hell is going on here?" He demanded to know.

"Guess you saw Jimmy, huh? Did you have stare at him? The poor guy never stood a chance. You can't keep doing that to people, you know."

"Its my job. It's what I do," Gibbs blustered. He caught sight of the offending belly bar and stopped dead in his tracks. He pulled a face. "Whoa, that's nasty lookin'."

"Thanks for the sympathy." She said - her face a picture of misery.

"Well you wanted it." He said in his best I-told-you-so voice.

"Stop looking at me like that and come and hold my hand. Ducky says the anaesthetic is the worst part."

"Looking like what?" He protested.

"All parent-y. It was just so pretty. Didn't you think it was pretty?"

"I guess. But it was also unsterile, unlicensed and illegal. I've half a mind to go and shut that club down."

"You can't." She cried. "They didn't know anything about it. She was doing them on the couch ... in ... the ... ladies ... room." She winced as she realised mid-sentence that she hadn't told him that particular detail before.

Gibbs threw her hand down in exasperation. "I can't believe you sometimes. You're an intelligent woman. You're highly educated. You're old enough to be a grandmother for Pete's Sake!"

"Gee thanks!" She said sarcastically. "Maybe I don't want to be intelligent and educated or a grandmother. Maybe I want to be young and impetuous and go wild and do crazy things before I die. Where's the harm in that? Haven't you ever done anything impulsive and stupid?

  


"I'd plead the fifth now while you're ahead, Jethro." Dr. Mallard suggested as he walked back to the examination table. He held up a syringe. "I need you two to stop arguing now. This is going to hurt."

"Great bedside manner, Duck." Said Jethro.

"Just telling it how it is. No sympathy for self inflicted wounds I'm afraid."

\---

Dr. Mallard picked up the belly bar with a pair of forceps and held it disdainfully in front of her nose. "One fake amethyst and bacteria laden whatever-its-plated-with monstrosity. This thing is about as far away from surgical steel as my left shoe. And let that be a lesson to you, madam." He threw it with some force into a kidney dish. He superglued the incision and dressed it. Her last humiliation for the day was a wide based antibiotic and tetanus shot in the right buttock.

"Now go home and rest. And no strenuous activity for a week. I don't want that incision re-opening. I'll be over tomorrow with Abby's results and maybe a more specific antibiotic."

\---

Jimmy pushed his glasses up his nose. He turned to his mentor, "If it's all the same to you Doctor Mallard, I think I prefer patients of the non-talking variety." He said.

Dr. Mallard looked heavenward for a moment, “Lord yes, man. Any day of the week." The good doctor agreed. "I'll help you tidy up here so we can hurry up and get home. I have a 10 year old malt with my name on it this evening with a side order of peace and quiet and maybe a symphony on the gramaphone. I cannot wait."

\---

Back at Chez Gibbs she lay on the couch feeling very foolish and sorry for herself. She clung to Gibbs' waist as they watched some TV. He suddenly began, "Look, if you really want one, we'll go to a proper place when this one has healed and get one. But we'll go to a proper place with rules and a license and sanitation."

"No." She answered glumly. I think I'm done being young and impetuous. It wasn't as much fun as I remembered. I need to start thinking about the real world for a while. At least one good thing had come out of this whole debacle though."

"Oh? There has?" He asked.

"You get a good night's sleep for a whole week!"

"Well, let's not get too hasty here ... " 


	20. Onward

****

**Chapter Twenty - Onward**

  
She stood under the shower and let the hot water gradually soak her body. She was in no hurry to get going this morning. She thought she was ready but standing here now? - She wasn't quite so sure. This was a big day. It had taken her well over a year to get to this point and it scared her ... just a little.

The shower curtain parted and Gibbs stepped into the steam and hot water. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed the back of her neck. “Good morning,” he said softly.

"Well hello,” she replied with a smile. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" She asked.

"I thought I'd wash your hair for you," he answered.

"That's lovely, Sweetheart," she replied. "And not the answer I was expecting."

"Well, if you have a better idea ... I'm sure I can find the energy from somewhere."

He kissed her neck once again. His hands began to trace her body. She turned around and held him tightly. His body told her he was just messing around. He pulled her tighter to him and kissed the top of her head. The warm water rained down on them soothingly. “And I figured you might need a hug and some morale support.” He added.

“That obvious huh?”

“You've been in here so long your coffee’s gone cold – and that never happens.”

She clung to his naked body listening an his heart beat steadily. "Can't I just stay here the rest of the day? I can always go back tomorrow?" She wondered aloud.

“You know it's not that simple, Babe. They're all looking forward to seeing you. They've bought a cake. It has to be today." He kissed her again and stepped out of the bath tub. Wrapping a towel around his waist he padded out of the bathroom. "Come on, I'll make you some more coffee.”

"Hey, what about my hair wash?" She called after him, but he was already heading down the stairs.

\---

She walked slowly and carefully down the stairs - it had been a long time since she had worn stilettos. The heels clicked noisily on the polished wood as she tentatively approached the edge of each stair.

"So what do you think?" she asked the two men waiting in the living room.

Gibbs sighed. He'd already answered this question several times this morning. "McGee, will you please tell my wife that she looks absolutely fine. She clearly doesn't believe me."

McGee looked at her nervously. Silver hair, dark suit, navy blue over coat, coffee to go. He turned and looked at Gibbs - silver hair, dark suit, navy blue over coat, coffee to go. "Umm ... you look ... umm ... fine?" He ventured.

"See? I told you." argued Gibbs in exasperation. "You look fine.” He held her by the shoulder and ran his hand along her arm soothingly. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “It is all going to be fine."

"Yes, I know.” She replied. “I've been practicing being fine all morning."

"So come on, let's go then."

\---

Gibbs helped her from the back of the car. McGee watched the couple self consciously from the driver's seat. Gibbs whispered to her quietly. He held her hand, his thumb rubbing the back of it reassuringly. They exchanged a few words, he kissed her cheek tenderly and then she walked across the parking lot toward the building.

He walked backwards towards the car to keep her in sight for as long as possible. He climbed into the passenger seat next to McGee.

"Shall we go, Boss?" asked the younger agent.

"Just give it a couple more minutes, Tim. Just in case." The two men sat in the car, the engine running. McGee's phone beeped. He reached for it and read the incoming message. 

He smiled. "It's for you, Boss. She questions your parentage (so I won't repeat that part) and then tells you to go away ... but not in those exact words, Sir. And then there's a threat to my manhood, so I'm driving away now."

Gibbs grinned to himself. _Yep, everything was going to be just fine._

\---

He waited for her in the parking lot. Leaning against the car, arms folded, checking his watch occasionally. When she eventually emerged from the office door she could barely see over the pot plants, gift bags and cake box she carried. He jogged over to help her, smiling. “Anyone would think they liked you or something,” he said as he loaded up the trunk.

“Yeah, I got that impression.” She replied She suddenly leaned over took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly, running her fingered through his hair. When they broke for air he smiled at her. “That was nice. Did I do something to deserve it?” he asked.

“I wanted to say thank you – for convincing me to come in today. For sticking by me through all of this. For taking care of me. For believing in me. For ... “

It was his turn to kiss her. He wrapped her tightly in his arms, enveloping her in his overcoat. He could feel her heart beat next to his, smell her perfume. Her hair was soft and fragrant. “You never have to thank me. He whispered. “I am yours. I will always take care of you. I will always love you.” 

He took a deep breath to break the moment. “But now, we are going home, you're going to change from your work clothes and I am taking you out to dinner to celebrate your first day back at work. He opened the passenger door for her. “Table's booked for eight."

☆☆☆

  
They had a rule. A new rule. A joint rule. Sundays. If they were both home, Sunday was a work free day. No reports, no emails, no phones - with the usual 'national security/threat to world peace' caveat. The morning was tea, toast and the newspapers - international, national and local, the afternoon was freeform.

She sat up straighter in the bed, her body tensing suddenly. "Sweetheart?" 

"Hmm," 

She nudged him out of his reading. 

"Sweetheart, did you know about this?" She held up a supplement from the Post about prison reform. She pointed to the paragraph discussing recent prison homicides. Samuel's name was among the cases cited. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

He looked over the top of his glasses at her. "How could you ask me that?"

"Because I know you."

"Then you should know not to ask me that." He said, his focus back on his section of the newspaper. She continued to stare at him patiently. He threw his paper to one side and tossed his glasses on his nightstand. 

He sighed wearily. "Okay, I knew about it but I had nothing to do with it. You'd just got home from the hospital. You were still pretty vulnerable. I didn't want anything to get in the way of you getting better. I thought I would tell when you were ready.” 

He looked at her raised eyebrows and confrontational glare – she wasn’t going to let this go. “ ... And I guess that's now."

"Well I guess so ..." She added sarcastically, folding her arms.

"I just wanted to protect you," he explained in his defence. He climbed out of bed and headed downstairs. She heard keys rattling as he unlocked the drawer in the dresser.

Sitting back down on the bed Gibbs opened the file to the appropriate page. She read, _"Inmate received a severe and sustained beating by two or more attackers. He was found in the prison laundry with multiple fractures, contusions and internal bleeding. Injuries to the skull, limbs, torso, lungs, spleen and testes. He was declared dead at the scene."_

Gibbs flipped the report closed again so she could see the name on the front. "You're free," he said simply, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her shoulder.

She thought for a moment. Shouldn't she be feeling something? Relief? Happiness? Loss? Something? Anything? "I feel kind of numb. I'm not sure I have the energy anymore for a response."

He crouched beside her and took her hand. He kissed her fingers. "You don't have to think about it anymore. It's over. It's all finally, over. We can get on with the rest of our lives now."  
.

☆☆☆

  
“What are you reading?” Tobias asked eagerly.

“A history of the Korean War, “ she replied over the top of her glasses. She showed him the front cover thinking he was interested.

“The schematics for a 1994, 2-stroke outboard motor,” replied Gibbs knowing full well that he wasn't. 

Tobias sighed dramatically. “Boy, you kids really know how to live,” He declared, totally unimpressed. “Come on. Let's go out. Let's go and do something.”

“We were and then you showed up,” argued Gibbs.

“No, a real something. Go and get dressed. Let's go to dinner. My treat. I have something to tell you."

“You're paying?” Gibbs asked feigning surprise.

“I pay sometimes.” Fornell shot back.

“Since when?”

“Since now. Now go put some proper clothes on.”

“Like what? A suit of something?” asked Gibbs.

“No I'm not going that upmarket. Just something that’s not ... that.” Said Tobias pointing at his friend’s attire. “I’m not taking you to the lumber yard – they don’t use tablecloths. Or tables for that matter.”

“You driving as well? Oh I'm there.” Gibbs climbed eagerly off the couch and headed up the stairs and ...

\---

“So what d’you think is so important?” she wondered.

“Well, he’s too happy so he’s not sick.” Gibbs shrugged. “Maybe it’s something to do with Emily?” 

She gasped and grabbed his arm excitedly. “D’you think Chris proposed?”

“I don’t know. Would Fornell be happy about that?” 

She slapped him playfully. “Yes, of course he would. Chris is lovely guy and Emily adores him. Only you seem to have a problem with him.”

"The kid doesn't know how to defend himself. How's he supposed to look after Em?"

"Emily hasn't needed anyone to defend her since she was able to talk. She's her mother's daughter after all."

"Oh for sure,” agreed Gibbs with a laugh. “But he still has to be able to defend himself. He went down like a sack of potatoes and I only hit him a little bit."

"You shouldn't have hit him at all!" She hissed at him. 

"Well I didn't remember who he was. I only met him the once. So this stranger walks through the front door. What was I supposed to do? Ask for his resume?"

"Emily didn't speak to you for weeks. But it did bring them closer together – Him having a broken jaw and all. Hey, if they're getting married it could all be down to you.” She laughed. “Not so much Cupid’s arrow as Cupid's fist." 

Gibbs groaned. "Please don't say that." He finished tying his shoelaces. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

She sighed as she followed behind him."When did you turn in to such a grumpy old man?" She complained.

"Don't remember exactly," he replied. "I think Carter was still in the White House."

\---

"Come on Tobias. We're down to dessert and you haven't said anything worth listening to." Grumbled Gibbs. "And while it's always entertaining watching my wife eat cookie dough icecream with a teaspoon, I could have gotten that motor going this evening."

Tobias turned to her mid teaspoon. He pulled an incredulous expression, jerked a thumb towards Gibbs and asked, "How do you live with this guy?" 

She swallowed her icecream. "Practice." she replied. "Seriously though, Tobias. What's going on? I want to know if my guess was right."

Tobias smiled. "Oh, okay." He sat up straighter in his chair, readying himself for his big announcement. "There are going to be some changes in the Fornell household." She threw a _'I told you I was right,'_ look at Gibbs. 

Fornell continued. "I am ... coming out of the field." She tried not to look disappointed. Gibbs suddenly looked more interested. Fornell went on. "Say hello to the Bureau's new head of Historic Investigation. I am going to be a real Fox Mulder." He rubbed his hands together, “All I need is my own Gillian Anderson and I'm off to find the aliens."

Gibbs smiled and then the smile broke into a laugh. "A desk. Tobias you always swore you would never take a desk."

"Well I got older and things changed. Now I'm happy to take a desk for a few years."

"Well as long as you're happy, then I guess so am I." Gibbs raised his beer bottle in toast. They all clicked bottles together and drank.

"I give it six months," Gibbs predicted with a grin.

\---

The car pulled up outside Chez Gibbs. "To your door as promised." Announced Fornell.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Tobias" she said and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled warmly at her. "Always a pleasure, Ma'am." and raised her hand to his lips.

From the back seat, Gibbs interrupted. "Yes, thank you for a very entertaining evening ... But I ain't kissin' ya. Though it wasn't what we were expecting."

"Oh?" questioned their friend. 

"We were hoping Chris had asked Emily to marry him." She clarified.

"Oh that?" Tobias shrugged. "He did that a month ago. They're looking at some time in May I think."

As they climbed out of the car and headed for the back door and the coffee percolator Gibbs complained. "Well they could have said something. I am her Godfather after all."

The two men stopped on the path. "After what you did?" Tobias exclaimed.

Gibbs threw up his hands in protest. "It was an accident!” He protested. “And I only hit him a little bit!"

☆☆☆

***WARNING: EXPLICIT ADULT CONTENT***

  
Gibbs pulled the government issue car up next to the house (His truck had been deemed ‘unsuitable’ for the day's mission). He took a deep breath in and let it escape slowly. _“Another day over,”_ he thought with relief. He hated meetings. He hated meetings with politicians most of all. A day at the White House might sound exciting to outsiders but all it meant to him was tight shoes and an even tighter necktie. He pulled at it irritably and undid his top button as he climbed from the car. He set the car alarm and headed for the front door. They hadn't quite got back to leaving it open. He fumbled with his keys.

The door suddenly opened. She pulled him inside by the lapels and slammed it shut behind him. It startled him. She stood, looking up at him, a strange expression on her face.

"Hello" she said.

"Hello back," he replied. He tried to walk passed her and into the house. She wouldn't let him. Instead, she reached under his overcoat and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He leaned against the door as he returned the hug, more than a little concerned.

"Is everything okay?" He asked with an amount of trepidation.

"Yes, everything is fine." She said non-commitally. She buried herself inside his coat. "I love this coat." She added. "It's my favourite. It smells like you. When you’re away, I sit on the couch wearing it. I even take it to bed with me." She seemed to be patting him down as she spoke.

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously.

"I'm looking for something ... Nope, not in your jacket ..." She shook his overcoat pockets "Ah! Here they are!" She said triumphantly hearing a familiar rattle. “I knew you'd have them with you – even at the White House.”

She pulled his hand cuffs out of his pocket and looked mischievously at him. She smiled at him wickedly.

He returned her smile nervously. "What do you think you're doing with those?" She continued to smile at him as she closed one cuff around his wrist.

"Oh, it's like that is it?" He made a step towards her. She pushed him back against the door, lifted his hand above his head and attached the second cuff to the curtain pole above the door. He laughed nervously.

"You could at least have let me take my coat off." He suggested.

"Not a chance. I've been thinking about this all day. You're exactly where I want you, the way I want you." She stared into his eyes with unbridled lust.

She kissed his mouth passionately, hungrily. She loosened his tie further and pulled at his shirt. Several buttons flew off and rolled in various directions across the floor. She kissed his bare chest and raked her fingernails downwards towards his waist.

"Okay, okay," he protested. "I get the hint - you're horny. Now let me go and we can go upstairs."

"Nope," she replied succinctly. She leaned against him, her mouth close to his ear. "I'm having you right here. Right now."

A shiver of anticipation shot through his body. She sank to her knees and unzipped his fly. Despite all his 'objections' he was already hard for her. She held him with both hands and ran the flat of her tongue the full length of him. He groaned and leaned against the door already in complete surrender. The confident touch of her hands felt so, so good. 

She repeated the action, this time sweeping her tongue across the tip to capture the salty drop that had formed there. He inhaled sharply, his body twitching in anticipation. Each kiss, stroke and lick sent him spinning towards the point of no return and drove him closer to desperation. His body screamed for more and still more. She was taking too long. He fought with the cuffs, anxious to be rid of them. Did she have any idea what this was doing to him?! He needed to be free so he could push her beneath him and fuck her until exhaustion stopped them both. He pulled frantically at the curtain rail. It did not move. Of course it didn't - he'd put it up there! 

He begged her. "Please Babe, you have to let me go. I can't do anything like this." 

She looked up at him and grinned wickedly. "Precisely." Her only answer. She returned her attentions to his erection. One more flick of her tongue and then she opened her mouth and smoothly slid him down into her throat.

He groaned with the ecstatic feel of her mouth around him. His free hand grabbed at her hair firmly. She smiled inwardly to herself. She began to suck rhythmically. Gently at first. His hips thrusting equally so as he kept up with her tempo. He gasped as she relaxed her throat allowing him further, deeper into her mouth. She continued to urge his movements on. 

He held her head to him with his free hand. He was losing his self control rapidly. He begged her again to stop. "Babe, you have to stop now. You're going to make me come, I won't be able to help it. You gotta stop."

She ignored him. One hand either side of his hips against the door, she mercilessly continued on. She felt powerful, confident, alive. Enveloped inside his overcoat, his free hand in her hair holding her to him. She continued to suck and slide him down into her throat with increasing urgency.

His eyes closed, he moaned in delightful surrender, holding her head to him. He thrust into her mouth frantically. He was so close now. He acted purely on instinct. His mind aware only of the sublime sensation of her mouth around him. Her eyes looking up at him burning with want; urging him on. 

Without warning she reached up and raked her fingernails down his back. He gave a shout, clutching at her head. An ecstatic wave of pleasure caused through him. She felt his body tighten and twitch as he released all that he was into her mouth. She swallowed quickly - once, twice, three times. Each contraction of her throat creating its own after shock within him.

  
He leaned heavily against the door trying to regain his senses. The whole world spun uncontrollably around him. He struggled to even out his breathing. She remained on her knees kissing and licking him tenderly, lovingly until he urged her to stand.

She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. His heart sounded like it was about to burst from his rib cage. Eventually, she reached up and released him from his handcuffs. They slid to the floor in each other's arms, exhausted.

She sighed contentedly. _“That went well,”_ she thought. He sat in a state of shock – _“Where did she come up with this stuff? Oh yeah, smutty books from Phillie.”_ He finally spoke. "You know, if you wanted some hand cuffs, I'd have bought you some."

"No," she replied. "They had to be yours. They're the real deal. And the next time you arrest someone, you're going to have some really interesting flash backs." They both laughed. He stood, took off his overcoat and gathered his errant clothing.

"You know, the key was in your pocket the whole time." She pointed out. "You could have undone them whenever you liked." 

"I know," he shrugged. "But where's the fun in that?"

He took her hand and led her up the stairs.

Case closed.


	21. A Prince Amongst Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is - The last chapter. After 4 years, we are finally here. My goodness!
> 
> Be warned, it is sad in places but please stick with it. It all works out in the end. A bar of chocolate and a box of tissues might be handy.
> 
> A x

****

**Chapter Twenty One**  
**A Prince Amongst Men.**

  


It was late ... or early depending on your point of view. The house was dark and locked up for the night. Gibbs closed the front door carefully behind him aware of every creek and groan the old house made. He smiled ironically to himself. _“I know just how you feel, my old friend,”_ He thought to himself as the door closed behind him with a reassuring click. 

He resisted the urge to throw his keys in the usual manner – the smart people around here were sleeping. He sighed wearily and instead lay them gently down on the dresser. He hung his coat up on the hook wincing at the effort it took to get it from across his shoulders. The Bruffen he’d picked up at the gas station had yet to kick in.

He toyed with the idea of Fruity Pebbles. Did they have enough milk? After all, the luke warm and ultimately disappointing burger he'd pick up from Beltway had been several hours ago. With a painful shrug he decided he really couldn’t be bothered. He was cold and sore and dog tired. He turned and slowly climbed the stairs.

She lay asleep on her side of the bed. An arm stretched out towards his pillow. He smiled inwardly. She insisted that late night stakeouts didn’t bother her but her sleeping self gave away her true feelings. He undressed quietly by the light from the window. His muscles protested with every movement. _“How dare you put us through this,”_ they complained. _“Just wait until the morning. We'll show you what pain is really all about.”_ He groaned as he climbed into bed. _“You're not 25 any more,”_ his body reminded him.

She stirred with the sudden movement beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and snuggled in, kissing the top of her head.

“You’re cold,” she complained.

“You're warm,” he countered.

“You'll warm up soon,” She replied rubbing his arm. “just keep your feet to yourself, they’re icy.”  


Gibbs grinned in the darkness. Well if that wasn’t an invitation ... She squealed playfully and threw her elbow back into his ribs. He let out an involuntary grunt of pain, his breath suddenly in sharp wheezing bursts. She sat up in alarm and switched on the bedside light. She gasped at the sight of her husband. His lip swollen. A cut above his eye held closed with tape. The bandages around his ribs already slipping, an angry group of bruises glowing under them.

“My God, what the hell happened?” she cried.

“He was resisting arrest.” Gibbs shrugged. He tried to smile but his split lip had other ideas. “It's really not as bad as it looks,” He tried to placate her. "Really."

“Let me be the judge of that.” She got out of bed and turned on the overhead light. He winced from the damaged eye. She ran her hands carefully over his body. This had been a serious fight. He had taken a real beating. “What did the hospital say?” she asked already knowing the answer.

“Umm...”

“Well, Jimmy then? Did you at least get Jimmy to check you over?

“It was late, I didn’t want to wake him ...”

She stood, hands on hips trying not to be annoyed. “I can't believe you sometimes! What if you have a concussion?”

“I don’t have a concussion - I’ve had enough to know.”

“Well, at least tell me you caught the guy?”

“No,” Gibbs answered dejectedly. "We'll have to start searching again in the morning.”

She turned the main light out and came back to bed. “You gotta stop doing this, Sweetheart. You're not a kid any more. Let the younger guys handle the next time. What's that new one called? Torres? You've got him for all that stuff now.” 

“Oh the younger guys. Right. Thanks.” He grumbled as he slid his body down the bed trying to find a comfortable position. There wasn’t one. And this was nothing compared to the morning.  


_“I’m getting too old for this, I know. I've been told several times this evening.”_ He thought as he drifted off the sleep. _"Maybe it is time.”_

\---

Gibbs fumed silently as he signed her in at the main desk. "Good morning Chris," she said brightly.  


"Good morning Ma'am," the agent replied as he handed her her visitor's pass. He kept one eye on Gibbs as he stomped through the metal detector.  


"Oh don't mind him, he's just in a bad mood." She reassured the nervous agent.  


"That's what I'm worried about Ma'am - we only just got the vending machine fixed from the last time."  


She laughed. Gibbs glared. She hurried to the elevator.  


  
Up on the third floor Torres sported his fat lip with manly pride. He swaggered in McGee's general direction. "You should have been there man. It was perfectly timed precision. The Perp was down and out. And I couldn't have done it without Bishop's help."  


"Um, excuse me!" protested Ellie. "I think you'll find those are my cuffs on him. I caught the guy with your help and without even breaking a fingernail, I might add.".  


Torres rubbed his chin carefully. "Only because Gibbs and I softened him up for you first."

McGee picked up the report from his printer. He waved it at Bishop. "It says here you snuck up on him and hit him across the back of the head with a trash can."  


Ellie shrugged. "I improvised while he was busy smacking the crap out of Nick with 'perfectly timed precision'" she hammed. She stopped laughing after a moment and looked around The Big Orange Room. "Has anyone seen Gibbs this morning? I hear he got pretty banged up last night."

The elevator pinged. McGee looked up. "Uh, speak the devil, Bishop ... Morning Boss ... And Mrs. Boss. How are you today?"  


Gibbs turned towards him. Half his face now swollen and glowing in shades of red, blue and purple. His glare warned everyone that wisecracks would result in some unannounced fitness evals. McGee grimaced. Torres was impressed that the old man was still standing. Bishop was instantly shocked and concerned.

Gibbs unlocked the top drawer of his desk, threw his gun, wallet and creds into it and locked it again. She waited patiently, hands in pockets, for the 6'1" mountain of fury to join her. "If you need me, I'll be in autopsy." He turned and headed toward the stairs. "Ellie, well done on the collar." He threw over his shoulder. 

Ellie smiled at Torres with glee nodding towards Gibbs' receding back, "That's official then ... MY collar!".  


\---

Dr. Palmer took a deep breath and calmed his thoughts. He still had a few minutes before he went into battle. His foe was formidable, fierce, a warrior, a hero. But to Palmer, he was just another patient who didn't like doctors – even those they had known for many years.

As the couple got to the door of autopsy Gibbs took her arm and pulled her away. "Let me go in first and make sure the coast is clear."  


"You really don't have to. I have seen a dead body before, you know. " she replied, touched by his concern - his irritation momentarily forgotten.  


"No, no. I said I'll go first. Sometimes it a bit ... Unpleasant if you're not used to it." He walked through the door and looked around. Palmer opened his eyes. _"Ah, let the battle commence."_ He thought, readying himself.  


There was only one cadaver on a table at the far end of the room. Poor old Captain Anderson had indulged once too often when his body finally gave up. Gibbs nodded towards the body. "Can you put him away or cover him up or something?"  


"Of course, Agent Gibbs." Palmer turned to one of his assistants. "Shelley, can you put a sheet over the Captain please," asked Palmer.  


"And then go away," ordered Gibbs brusquely. Shelley looked over at Palmer for permission before scuttling past Gibbs, her feet barely touching the floor. As the doors slid open to let Shelley through, their visitor stood in the stark light, her arms crossed. _"Oh good,"_ thought Palmer, relieved. _"Reinforcements."_  


\---

Gibbs sat on the autopsy table in his shorts and socks; a thermometer in his mouth. Palmer didn't actually need Gibbs' temperature but it helped to keep his patient quiet - at least for a little while.  


Jimmy sighed. The examination had gone as expected. He would have been far happier elbow deep in Captain Anderson's lower intestines this morning. Instead, he scribbled furiously across the form on his clipboard.

"That's one week of sick leave. Take the painkillers three times a day please. And rest Gibbs, not catching up with house repairs or anything strenuous on the boat. Rest - Sitting, reading, TV, sleeping. And no alcohol - not with what I've just prescribed."

He took the thermometer from his patient and feigned reading it as he steeled himself for his next sentence. ."... and then one week of desk duties."  


"Ah, come on Doc! Desk Duty?" Gibbs complained loudly.

Jimmy looked over his glasses at his patient who was more than a little unhappy. The doctor held his ground. His pen poised above the clipboard. "I can make it two weeks if you'd prefer?"

Gibbs jumped down from the autopsy table and started to get dressed, muttering under his breath. Then he snatched the form from Palmer. "I liked you better when you talked more and said less," he grumbled.

"Why thank you, Gibbs. I love you too." Jimmy smiled in response. He watched the all too familiar overcoat strut purposefully through the door. He sighed, thankful to have survived the encounter with his own, personal hero relatively unscathed. _"And now back to Captain Anderson’s duodenum,"_ He thought cheerfully.

  


Gibbs marched into the Bullpen to collect the things from his desk drawer. He threw the form onto McGee's desk and headed towards the elevator. McGee glanced over the paper. "Where you going Boss?" He shouted after him.

"Fishing," came the reply.

  


☆☆☆

  


The Chickadee bobbed gently on the water. The two friends within her hull sat in companionable silence, each lost to their own thoughts while they waited for their lunch to take the bait.  


“So how’s it feel to be a Grandpa, Tobias?”  


“Exhausting, terrifying, worrying ... and absolutely fricking amazing! The only thing to beat it was when his mother was born.” Tobias looked over in time to see Gibbs’ smile waiver very slightly.  


“Hey Man, I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I didn’t mean to rub your nose in it like that. In all honesty, it has taken me a while to adjust to little Jack being around. It’s all exciting - although the diapers and the sleepless nights got old real fast.”  


Gibbs threw his line back onto the lake surface. “Oh, I hear you there!”

They fell silent again for a while. A breeze rippled the surface of the water. There was no sign of lunch. Tobias opened two more cans of beer and passed one across. “So, your turn. Come on now, spit it out Gibbs. Why are we really here?”  


Gibbs acted all wounded. “What’s that supposed to mean? I just haven’t seen much of you since the baby arrived. I wanted to go fishing with my ol’ Bud.” He turned his attention back to the water, huffing dramatically.  


“That's bull,” Tobias replied loudly.  


“No it's not,” Gibbs spat back.  


“Oh it so is!” Tobias countered with a chuckle. “And let me tell you why. First, less of the old - I'm younger than you remember? Second, we see the both of you several times a week as Jack’s grand-Godparents. And finally, and most importantly, I have never been and never will be your ‘Bud’. I'm your friend, I'm your partner in crime, I'm your brother. But I will never be your Old Bud." He made a disgusted face. "How did you ever survive undercover, you're such a lousy liar? Now what’s going on? Is it serious? Does it involve doctors or will I need a gun?”

Gibbs sighed and shook his head. “No, no. It’s nothing like that.” He looked sadly into his friend's eyes.  


Tobias paled slightly as he thought. He grabbed Gibbs shoulder looking distraught. “Oh no, has she asked you for a divorce?”  


Gibbs shrugged off the hand irritably. “Tobias, I'm trying to be serious here.”  


“So was I. You gotta admit it’s a fair guess with your track record.” Argued Fornell.  


Gibbs sighed again. “No, she has not asked me for a divorce. She’s asked me to retire.”

  


Tobias sat back in surprise.“Well I never thought I’d hear that word from your mouth. I thought there was more chance of you asking me to marry you – which I wouldn’t do in a month of Sundays by the way ... What would you do if you retired.”  


“Oh I don’t know." Gibbs shrugged. He thought for a moment as he looked across the lake. "Work on the house maybe. Carry on with the cabin. Catch up with my reading. Travel. Sail. Babysit our Grand-godchild. Stuff like that.”

Tobias shrugged. “That doesn't sound so bad does it? Would you go Corporate – a lot people would pay to know what you know?”  


“Nope.”  


“Would you learn to play golf?”  


“Not if you paid me.”  


Tobias placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. “Then there is hope for you yet, my friend.” He opened the last two tins of beer. “Let’s finish these and go find a pizza. I've done enough fishing for one day.”

  


☆☆☆

  


Four years, 5 months and 23 days on ...  


"Ah, come on!" Torres protested. "Boss, get your wife in hand. She put me off my swing."

"Don't look at me. She's her own woman." Argued Gibbs, raising his hands in supplication.

"But you're in charge and she's putting me off the game."

"All I said was nice buns, Nick."

"See?" appealed Nick unsuccessfully to the games current umpire. 

"I meant hamburger buns," she clarified, feigning innocence. "You did bring them didn't you?"

Gibbs rested his hands on his hips. "I am not having a conversation about your buns Torres, bread or otherwise." He laughed. She smiled innocently at them both and blew Nick a kiss before heading off towards Tobias. 

  


The large group had gathered at the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon in celebration of their illustrious leader's retirement - A day nobody ever thought would happen, least of all him. 

The softball game - Law Enforcement v The Rest of the World, had been playing on and off for a couple of hours with little regard for the score - Each side claiming to be in the lead.

The barbecue coals were perfect and cooking up a storm. Ice cold drinks of many varieties flowed. Families and friends gathered together, laughing, playing, enjoying the sunshine and each other's company. Life was good.

"Whose turn is it to umpire?" shouted Gibbs. "I need a beer." 

"I'll do it," volunteered Reeves. "It looks straight forward enough. Far easier than cricket. Now, which one is first base again?"

\---

Gibbs headed towards the truck and the cooler in the back. He picked out a cold beer and a coke for his designated driver - she had lost the coin toss, fair and square!

He placed the can against her neck as he leaned in for a kiss. "Mmm, that feels good," she exclaimed.

"Which? The can or the kiss?"

"Whichever answer will get me laid later." She smiled. He smiled back.

"Oh well, it must be this then." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her more deeply.

"I would've expected you two to be bored of that by now," Fornell grumbled.

They looked at each other. "Are you bored?" He asked her seriously

"I'm not sure." She replied. "Kiss me again and I'll see how I feel afterward." Flamboyantly, he took her in his arms dipped her back and kissed her passionately. When they eventually stood she breathlessly concluded that whilst she was now a lot of things, bored was definitely NOT one of them.

Tobias couldn't help but laugh. It was so good to see his friends relaxed and having fun. "Where're the kids, Tobias?" Gibbs asked looking around the park.

"Emmy's gone in search of icecream for Jack. My son-in-law is in the outfield somewhere being not very useful. They'd've been far better off with Emily out there."

"That's too bad, Grandpa Toby. We wanted to cuddle our surrogate grandson, didn't we Grandpa Gibbs?" She gave Tobias a hug, kissed his cheek and set off to help Breena Palmer and Baby Palmer number four!.

Jim Palmer was running late from his role as Head of Autopsy. The place had expanded since those days spent with his much loved and missed mentor. He had his own gaggle of autopsy gremlins to corral these days. She was surprised the Palmers ever found time to produce yet another of their own.

Tobias sighed as they watched her trot across the field. He turned to Gibbs. "You're a lucky S.O.B. You know that don't you?"

"Oh yeah," replied Gibbs. "I remind myself every day.”

\---

Gibbs placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply. A scruffy looking terrier jumped from the truck, a ball in his mouth. He dropped it a Gibbs feet who picked it up and threw it a staggering distance. The dog ran happily after it. “And you wonder why they wont let you play softball,” Tobias questioned.  


Gibbs grabbed a blanket and a pillow from the back of the truck. The day was getting hotter and some shade was needed. He wandered happily after his wife, heading across the field towards a group of trees. The dog returning the ball to his feet for another throw every now and again.

"No hanky panky, you two" Shouted Fornell after him. "I know what you're like." Gibbs waved a rude gesture behind his back and carried on walking. His old friend laughed loudly after him.

He spread the blanket under the tree throwing the pillow towards its trunk. She joined him in the shade and sat down against it. He lay next to her, his head on her lap, staring up through the branches at the sky. He sighed contentedly. It felt like years of tension were draining away from him. Retirement? What had he been so worried about? Days like today? Days at the cabin? On the boat? Bring it on!

She placed her hand on his heart. "Happy?" She asked without looking up from her book.

He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "I could get used to this you know? I could get used to this A LOT." He turned his head to watch his friends. His family.

"What a great day. Look at this? There are three generations here. Brothers and sisters. Kids. Their kids. Our family. So good to see everybody here. Yep, I could definitely get used to this." He tried to stifle a yawn. "Is it okay if I nap for a while?"

"Of course." She replied. "It's your day. You can do whatever you like. I'll just sit here and read my book. Nap away." The dog joined his master on the blanket. He lay down and rested his head on Gibbs' chest. Gibbs placed his baseball cap over his face and closed his eyes. Within seconds muffled snoring could be heard from under the cap.

She shook her head and chuckled to herself. Even after all these years it amazed her how fast he could fall asleep. "Happy snoozing, " she whispered "I love you." He grunted vaguely towards her. She carefully wiggled her hand out from under his to turn the page. She sighed. Life was indeed, good.

The breeze blew gently through the trees. The rustling leaves and the hum of insects, the sounds of a peacefully snoozing dog and husband were all having their effect. Each page took longer to read than the last. The words began to swirl lazily together. Eventually she gave in to the somatic elements around her. She put the book down, reached for his hand and closed her eyes. _"Just a few minutes,"_ she thought.

\--- 

"Something's wrong," said Ellie nodding towards the trees and the couple resting beneath them.

"You can tell from this distance?" Asked Reeves incredulously.

"Trust me, Clay." She replied. "Something is most definitely wrong." She continued to stare across the field at the couple as she walked towards them. Reeves followed her uneasily. They both saw their friend's expression change. They started to run full pelt, Reeves on his phone. Others were looking at the trees and headed towards them. A state of general alarm growing among them.

Reeves got there first and took in the situation in a single blink. He pulled Gibbs from her lap, lay him flat on the floor. He pulled the hat away from his face. He looked like he was sleeping contentedly.

"Gibbs? Gibbs can you hear me? Boss? Jethro?" He shook the marine roughly, to no response. He leaned in closely checking for breath. There were no signs of life. Clayton pounded on the older man's chest with both fists and started compressions. He looked up briefly to see Palmer running their way, medical bag in hand.

"Oh, my. Oh my, Heavens!" Exclaimed Palmer. He checked for a pulse. He took his stethoscope from his bag and listened for any signs of life. There were none to be found. He tried to stop Reeves but found it nigh impossible.

"Clay, you can stop now." He said quietly.

"But I've got to try Jimmy." Replied the big man full of anguish. He kept going. Palmer took his hands and pulled them away from Gibbs.

"You did try, Clay. You tried your very best I assure you, but he's been gone at least an hour. There was nothing else you could have done. It's over.” he looked sadly at Gibbs and then back at Reeves. “It was his time."

The anguished cry of loss finally came. It sounded distant to her ears. She didn't realise it was her until well meaning arms unfolded her and swept her away. Organised chaos continued around her. Medical personnel directed by Jim Palmer; investigative ones by Tim McGee. A sheet was placed over Gibbs. She was bundled into a car to be taken home. The dog sat next to his master loyally keeping watch. Keeping his master safe. His name was Gunny after all.

\---

"Brain haemorrhage... Massive ... Quick ... He was sleeping, he wouldn't have felt any pain, no. ... One mercy at least." 

Torres was doing his best to keep it together. He pinched his nose between his eyes daring tears to fall again. “Not in the office,” he muttered under his breath. He had to be strong for the others. He had promised Gibbs a long time ago he would take care of the rest. Now he had to live up to that promise. Emotions could wait. 

He looked across the bull pen to see McGee having the same conversation with some one. Then he stared across to the empty desk in front of him. The pile of finished reports ready for handover. A pair of reading glasses thrown casually on top of them. It felt like a knife through his heart. He smiled to himself. "Rule 8, eh Boss? See? I'm learning.”

  


☆☆☆

  


Jim Palmer waited until his staff had gone home. People had been in and out of Autopsy all day wanting to say their goodbyes. Some stoic. Some distraught. Some secretly making sure, he had no doubt. And Abby? Abby was beyond any amount of distraught he could imagine. Each broken heart cracked his own a little further. Had Gibbs ever realised the strength of emotion (either way) that he produced in people? 

His Senior Assistant M.E. Russell, had offered to stay and assist - Almost insisted, clearly worried about his boss. That was very kind Jim reassured him, but “I got this” he said with a rye smile.

Now, well into the evening, all was quiet. The time had come. He took a deep breath and walked to the table. With some trepidation he removed the sheet from the body. Gibbs lay there peacefully as one does when one dies in ones sleep.

“No one would ever have guessed that you pass away like that.” Jimmy told him. “I mean it's not like we were taking bets or anything Gibbs; but I guess we expected it to happen in the line of duty some how. You know - Doing something heroic or dangerous. Saving the World some how or at the very least, a bus full of school kids." He smiled down at his old friend. "Some people around here were amazed you made it this far, quite frankly.” His voice caught in his throat. He placed a gloved hand gently on Gibbs' shoulder. “And some of us thought you would go on forever.”

He worked as he talked. Hair, skin and nails. He logged scars - so many scars! Bullet wounds, knife wounds, unidentified traumas, surgeries. A bit of arthritis setting in here and there. An ankle break that had clearly not set properly - That wouldn't have helped the knee. “And we warned you not to take the cast off early.” Palmer admonished. “Gosh, when Dr Mallard and I found you in your basement with the tree loppers I was stunned.” He continued. “Truly stunned. ... I honestly didn’t think Dr. Mallard knew that word.” 

Palmer’s examination made note of the knee replacement on his clipboard. He looked down at the legs laid out in front of him. The chase the bad guys, sports playing, ship building, can't dance if you paid him legs. He shook his head and added, “And I’m sorry Agent Gibbs, but no woman in the land would ever call those legs attractive!”

Jim realised he was waffling, trying to avoid the inevitable next stage. He put the clipboard down, leaned on the table and took a breath. The easy part was done. He reached for a No. 10 blade from his instrument tray.

The scalpel shook in his hand as he held it above his friend’s body. A tear escaped from behind his glasses. It rolled down his nose and soaked into his mask. A second followed. He looked up into the lights to try and scare any more from his eyes. _Man, this was hard!_ “Keep talking Palmer." He muttered to himself. "You know it helps and you owe too much to not keep going.”

“Shall we get on with the Y, Gibbs?” He sniffed in another tear and took a shuddering breath. “Y not ay? Trust me, this will hurt me a lot more than it hurts you, Gibbs.” said Dr. Palmer and he began.

\---

“The liver is enlarged with signs of progressive sclerosis." Palmer recorded. He looked over his glasses at Gibbs. "Well no surprises there ay Jethro?” He leaned over and whispered to his friend. “Now me and your insides are more intimately acquainted I feel it's okay to call you Jethro while at work. I mean, given the life you had I’m surprised your liver is this good. Dr. Mallard worried about the quality of that rot gut you insisted on swilling and judging by the state of this, he was right to do so. Still, your lovely wife of the last few years would have kept you closer to the straight and narrow. That will have helped.”

“The heart. Damaged both physically and emotionally almost beyond tolerance.” He put it on the scales and wrote the number it recorded down with as little thought as possible. “Who would think such a small thing could love so much and so completely.” Palmer smiled lovingly at his friend. “You didn't fool anybody you know. Not those of us who know you." The sudden realisation of what he'd just said cut through him like a spear - barbed and painful. His voice suddenly choked in his throat. The words not wanting to leave his mouth. " … knew you.” He corrected himself. A wave of loss washed over him for a moment. He returned his gaze to the light for a second before looking back to the heart.

“Oh this poor thing took such a beating," Palmer smiled to himself. "If you’ll pardon the pun. I mean, look at the state of it? You really should've taken better care of it I must say, Jethro.” Palmer turned the heart to reveal the surgery it had received. “Taft did an amazing job on this, Jethro. We all owe him your extra years. It is truly beautiful work. I wish you could see it. You would really appreciate the skill.”

“The brain. I'm sorry I have to ruin that haircut of yours Jethro. I will try to keep the incision as small as I can." Jim ran his fingers through Gibbs hair absently for a moment. “You know there has been a great deal of speculation about your haircut over the years. Like how women ever found it attractive. And then one day, there it was gone. Poof! I must say, the grey hair really suited you."

He looked down at Gibbs’ face. "So peaceful." He muttered. This was the part he'd been dreading the most. He bent down and kissed his friend’s forehead. His lips lingering in a moment of reverence. “You know I have to do this Jethro. And I know I should never apologise, but I’m sorry all the same.”

  


“Ah! There's the little bleeder that caused all this trouble. What with all the stress and concussions and your diet and all, it isn't a surprise that eventually you'd blow a gasket. At least it had the decency to do it while you were sleeping.”

Jimmy leaned against the table exhausted. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He realised now why Dr. Mallard always insisted on performing autopsies on his friends. He could not leave their last moments of corporeal existence to a stranger. It needed to be done with care, precision and yes, love. One final expression of love of a most intimate nature. Palmer looked up towards the heavens. Q“Thank you Dr. Mallard for this most important of lessons.” He looked back down at his friend on the table. “Let's put you back together shall we Jethro, so we can get you on your way? Breena is expecting you in the morning. And there's no use arguing – she wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re family Jethro and we take care of our own.”

The body was safely stored away in 207. “We save this one for our most honoured guests.” Palmer washed all his instruments and left them for one of his assistants to steralise in the morning. He put on his hat and his coat - a trench coat of familiar design. He turned out the light and stood in the doorway. He stared at door 207 “Goodnight Leroy Jethro Gibbs - a prince, no a king, among men. Say hello to Dr. Mallard for me and please tell him I miss him and that I understand now.

  


☆☆☆

  


“Jethro my dear boy! How lovely to see you.”

“Duck,”

“I was just saying to Mother I thought you'd be along soon.”

Gibbs looked around but couldn't see all that much. Everything seemed out of focus and kind of vague. “Is this heaven?”

The good doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and looking down, smiled shyly. “Hardly. Would any of us get in there? Well, maybe Miss Sciutto, but the rest of us?” He shrugged.

“What do I do here then?” Gibbs asked feeling decidedly useless.

“We wait,” replied Ducky.

“What for?”

“I haven't worked that out yet.”

“But you've been gone for years, Duck.”

Ducky raised a hand. “Ah. Time does work in quite the same way around here. … Chess?”

  


☆☆☆

  


The service was simple, respectful. Full military honours applied at Arlington. They laid him next to his Dad. Back at the house, she sat on the old couch with the neatly folded flag on her knees. The house was full of people sipping bourbon in his honour, sharing stories and offering her tea.

She knew they all meant well, but she really wanted to be alone. Eventually, the throng started to leave. King and Abby stayed behind to help clear up.

"How're you doing there Darlin'?" King asked as he sat next to her and wrapped a protective arm around her."

"Oh, as well as ... as the phrase goes." She smiled weakly trying to reassure him. It wasn't working.

"D'you need anything?"

"No."

"Have you eaten today?"

"No. But thank you. I think I just want some sleep."

He nodded. "You gonna be okay on your own? Would you like one of us to stay over?"

"No, I'll be okay. I have the dog here – even though he wont leave the basement. And besides,” She looked around the room. Jethro's right here. I can feel him."

"As long as you're sure."

"Oh I'm sure."

"Well we'll come back in the morning." said Abby. They kissed her goodnight and let themselves out. 

She took the flag upstairs and laid it on the dresser. She got changed into her night clothes. She stared at the bed with the elaborate head board he had carved. She could not face getting into it - finding his hair on the pillow. Breathing in his scent from the sheets. Lying next to an empty space. She walked across to the linen chest. She finally understood, she realised. She grabbed sheets, a blanket and a pillow. 

She went back down stairs and made up the old couch. Laying down, she closed her eyes. His face hovered before her as clear as day. "If it was good enough for you my Love, then it's good enough for me. Goodnight, Mr. Gibbs. I love you."

  


☆☆☆

  


She knew she was on the ground. It was hard and cold. There was a flash of brilliant light. It made her head hurt. As it dimmed she became aware of a person in front of her. They were talking. "It's okay. You're safe now." A woman's voice. "My name is Shannon." She sounded nice. Calm and soothing. You're safe now. It will all be okay." Then a comforting darkness enveloped her once again..

She opened her eyes once more. She was sitting at the dinner table at home. Gibbs sat right next to her. She beamed at him. She had never been so happy to see him. She threw her arms around him and covered him in kisses. 

He took her hands, smiling and laughing along with her. "Hey You," he rasped. "We've been waiting."

She shook her head, confused. "We?"

Someone took her other hand in theirs. She turned to see Shannon seated on the other side of her.

"Hello," she said. "Remember me?"

She turned back to Jethro, confused. He looked at her uncomfortably.

"Well, this is awkward," He squirmed.

  


“D'ya think?!" Complained Diane from behind them.


	22. Alternate Endiing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one stage during the writing of this I wasn't sure how it was going to end. One way would end the story much quicker than the other. In the end, I decided on the longer way around because I was having far to much fun and didn't want it to stop.
> 
> So this is the other ending. See what you think.

**FIVE: Alternate Ending.**

The van roared away at full speed. Gibbs ran after it, gun drawn trying to get a clear shot. Suddenly the back doors opened and a bound, hooded woman's body was pushed out of it. He rolled to avoid her, planted his right foot solidly and emptied a full clip into the van's fuel tank.

Instinctively, he dived back across the woman's body, shielding it with his own. There was an almighty explosion behind him. He felt his legs and back pelted with debris. Everything went silent as the explosion shut down his eardrums. Choking, acrid smoke stung his eyes and throat. His mind was clogged with fear - There was no movement from the woman beneath him. He clung to her, shielding her from the carnage around them. He didn't move until he felt Fornell next to him.

Tobias ran towards his downed friend. He saw the woman's body beneath Gibbs and noted the lack of movement. "Gibbs? Gibbs can you hear me?" He rested his hand on Gibbs' shoulder. Gibbs looked up dazed. It was clear he couldn't hear well. "Gibbs? Can you hear me? Do you need a medic?"

Gibbs looked down. He nodded toward the stricken body beneath him. "First." He managed to gasp. He took off his coat and draped it over her, aware of her state of undress. There were gaping wounds to her side and under her breast. There was a lot of blood. He tried to put pressure on both but he was losing the battle. He knelt beside her on the broken concrete trying to keep her alive. He stopped hearing Fornell.

\---

Quickly, Tobias called for backup = fire, ambulance and ME. Hell, he'd have called the coastguard and the girl scouts if he'd thought it would help. He crouched beside Gibbs. He checked the woman's pulse. Faint. Very faint but she was still with them. "It's okay Gibbs. She's alive. Gibbs? Alive. Can you hear me?"

Gibbs gave no response. He took Fornell's hand and pressed it against one of the wounds. "Press here, hard," were his only words. His hands covered in blood, he stroked her hair. He told her it would all be okay. He was right there, she was safe now. The medics were on their way. Fornell noted the grim expression, the frantic way he was trying to stop the bleeding. 

The ME van pulled up. Ducky jumped out as Palmer was still parking the vehicle. "Let's see to the living shall we? The dead are not going anywhere." He ran up to Gibbs and Fornell and crouched down beside them. He held out a handful of gauze. "Tobias pack the wound under her breast. It looks a lot worse than it is. Keep the pressure on, that's it. ... That's it. You concentrate on that. Jethro and I will work on the other one." 

He looked across at Gibbs, read the unspoken message, then rested his hand on his friend's shoulder. Gibbs knew. He'd seen enough in his time to know. He looked into the good doctor's eyes. "How long, Duck?" he asked. 

Ducky went to work on her worst injury. He recognised it as the botched nephrectomy it was. They hadn't got as far as taking the organ. They'd obviously been in a rush. He clamped off arteries. He sutured. He cleaned debris from the wound. He administered painkillers. She really needed a full operating theatre, a blood bank and an ICU and that wasn't going to happen. It was obvious to him that she had lost too much blood. There wasn't very much else he could do. She wasn't going to make it to the hospital in time even with the helicopter. All he could do now was make her comfortable and support Gibbs. 

"Mr. Palmer, bring me some blankets and the privacy screens please? We'll be staying here for a few minutes yet. And get Dr. Weiss to come and collect those bodies for us. I'll deal with them later. Tobias, you can step away now. Give them some privacy." 

Fornell turned to him in shock."But Doc, she's going to be okay right? I felt a pulse. She has to be okay, Doc."

Dr. Mallard shook his head very slightly. His expression perhaps not as professional as it should be. "You already know the answer to that question, Tobias. Leave them be, now. Come and get cleaned up and call the others."

An ambulance pulled up. Ducky walked over to the medics and showed his I.d. He explained the situation. It pulled away again. The helicopter was called back to base. 

\--- 

Gibbs never let her go. He carefully cut the tape from her eyes. He lay on the concrete next to her, curled around her, his arms around holding her tightly to him. He wept silently against her as he stroked her face and whispered sweet nothings in her ear until long after she had passed.

Ducky heard the faintest of cries and knew that it was over. He opened the screen and bent over the couple laying on the floor. He checked her for a pulse. He didn't expect to find one. It was just as he'd expected. "Jethro," he said softly. "Jethro, I have to take her now." Gibbs tightened his grip around her. "Come on now my Boy. You have to let her go now."

"I can't Duck. Not yet. Not yet." Gibbs whispered, beyond distraught.

Dr. Mallard patted Gibbs' shoulder paternally. "A few minutes longer, then. I'll come back in a short while but then we will have to go." Gibbs nodded imperceptibly. Ducky left his friend behind the screen. He walked over to Fornell. Tobias knew from his expression that she was gone. 

"What do we need to do?" Asked Fornell. "Does he need a hospital?" 

"No," the doctor replied. "The blood on him is not his. He needs a shower, some sedation and some sleep. Oh, and Tobias, do not, under any circumstances, leave him alone. And you might want to find all his guns."

\---

They eventually managed to persuade Gibbs to give her body over to Ducky's care. He made the M.E. promise not to have her laid out next to the animals that had done this to her.

Vance turned to DiNozzo. "The team's yours until further notice Tony. Make Gibbs proud." 

DiNozzo looked at the cover woman on the gurney. "We will." He said. "Both of them."

Fornell and Vance helped Gibbs to his feet. "Let's get you home, my friend." Tobias said softly. He wrapped a blanket around him and guided him to the car. Gibbs lay on the back seat motionless and silent staring blankly ahead of him. The pair drove in silence - There was nothing they could say that would fix this.

Back at the house they persuaded Gibbs to shower and wash the blood from his body and hair. He emerged from the bathroom in sweats.

"Where are my clothes?" He asked in panic. "Where's my coat and my suit."

"Relax," said Tobias, "I put them in garbage bags and put them outside. Abby is picking them up later."

"You had no right to do that, Tobias."

"What? Why? You can't possibly want them? They will never clean."

"I don't want them clean. They have her blood on them. They're all I have left now."

"What? That's too macabre even for you. I can't let you keep them. It's gross."

"Don't tell me what to do in my own house, Fornell."

"I will if it's weird. ... Okay, I'll go and get them but only after you get some rest.

\---

Vance and Fornell sat drinking coffee at the table. Their friend was finally sleeping.

"So, how many guns do you think he has?" Asked Leon.

Tobias put down his cup and thought for a moment. "Well, there's his old sniper rifle in the basement; his Dad's Winchester; his service revolver and backup, that's four ... then there's the one he bought her - no wait, that's in evidence, but he must have at least one private piece. I reckon five/six minimum. I know where most of them are. We can look for the rest while he's sleeping.

Fornell had got most of it right except for the one in the kitchen drawer; the one taped under his work bench; the one in the spare room closet; the one down the side of the couch and the one in the toilet cistern and of course, the shotgun taped to the back of the ironing board - they nearly missed that one! As he loaded them all into a box and into the trunk of his car he muttered, "You're a hard man to keep alive, Charlie Brown."

The day's events suddenly became too much. He leaned into the trunk and sobbed as quietly as he was able. He would miss her almost as much as Jethro. The pain was unbearable. He was going to have to nurse his best friend, his brother, through this ... Again. How was he going to survive a second time? Tobias stood and wiped his eyes. "One day at a time, my friend. One day at a time."

  


☆☆☆

  


"Car crash. Blood loss. Massive. Almost instant," Tony lied. "She wouldn't have felt any pain, no. One mercy at least." He was doing his best to keep it together. He had made this call and had this conversation a couple dozen times already and still it stuck in his throat and choked him. Still it was better than the truth. It would be easier for people to accept. 

\---

The service was simple, respectful. Back at the house, he sat on the old couch with the tastefully presented urn on his lap. - No-one had been able to prise it from his grasp. The house was full of people sipping wine in her honour, sharing stories and offering him tea.

He knew they all meant well, but he really wanted to be alone. Eventually, the throng started to leave. King and Abby stayed behind to help clear up

"How're you doing there my Brother?" King asked as he sat next to him. He placed a protective arm across Gibbs' shoulders.

"Oh, as well as ... as the phrase goes." He smiled weakly trying to reassure his old friend. It wasn't working.

"D'you need anything?"

"No."

"Have you eaten today?"

"No - I just want to sleep."

King nodded. "You gonna be okay on your own? Would you like one of us to stay over?"  
"No. I'm okay. Besides, I'm not alone." He looked around the room. "She's right here. I can feel her." 

"As long as you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"Well we'll come back in the morning." said Abby. She kissed him goodnight and they let themselves out. 

\---

He took the urn upstairs and set it carefully on the dresser. He got changed out of his suit and tie into something more comfortable. He smiled as he realised it was the sweatshirt he had lent her after the parole hearing. He hugged it to himself hoping for some kind of residual sense of her.

He stared at the bed with the elaborate head board he had carved. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips tightly closed. He could not face getting into it - finding her hair on the pillow. Breathing in her scent from the sheets. Lying next to an empty space. He walked across to the linen chest. 'Here we go again' He grabbed sheets, a blanket and a pillow

He went back down stairs and made up the old couch. Laying down, he closed his eyes. Her face hovered before him as clear as day. _"I promise, it won't be forever, Babe. Just a few nights. I can't do this right now."_ Exhaustion was getting the better of him. His eyes closed despite his protests. As he slowly slid fitfully into sleep there was one last thing to say. "Goodnight, Mrs. Gibbs. I love you."

  


☆☆☆

  


Paperwork. He hated paperwork. He'd always hated paperwork. Why didn't they just run a pen through his heart now and put him out of his misery. What kind of life or career could he call this? He understood now why some guys went crazy and shot up their office. The thought had occurred to him more than once.

Abby came bouncing into the Squad Room. "Hey, Gibbs. I brought you some pot roast for your dinner. You just have to microwave it for three minutes and it will be good and hot."

"You don't have to keep doing this Abbs. I can cook you know. And besides, I still have the dinner Delilah sent over with McGee yesterday."

"Why didn't you eat it yesterday?" Asked Abby. He sighed.

"Well, because I still had what Bishop made and the pasta from Senior."

Abby, knelt down by the side of his desk. She put her arms on it and rested her head on her hands. Quietly, with concern in her voice,

"You have to eat, Gibbs. You'll get sick if you don't eat. She wouldn't want that."

He looked away briefly. "I'm just not hungry Abbs." He shrugged. "I don't care anymore. Now will you just leave it be."

"I will for now, Gibbs. But this is only Round One. It isn't over until the skinny guy eats." She strode off towards her lab in a determined fashion. Round Two involved shackling him to her desk until he'd eaten the pot roast.

\---

Okay, so the pot roast was good, he had to admit. Abby really was a special person. He wondered how she had put up with him for all these years. How had any of them? 

He was later than usual to his local liquor store. "Hey Joel. How are you this evening?" He asked the young man behind the counter. 

"Very well, Agent Gibbs." Joel put his bi - nightly bottle of bourbon on the counter already wrapped and ready to go. He pulled a face, "You know, I could recommend a much better brand to you."

"Oh, I'm sure, at a much better price huh?" He smiled ryely. He handed Joel a couple of bills and waited for his change.

The punk came bursting through the door all anger and withdrawal symptoms. He waved the gun erratically in front of him. First at Joel, and then at Gibbs.

Joel opened the cash register. The punk snatched at the bills in the drawer and stuffed his pockets with them.

He moved on to Gibbs. Gibbs held his hands out. He kept his eye on the gun.

"You don't want to do this, son" he said calmly. "Joel there, hit the panic button the second you came through that door. The cops are already on their way, I promise you. If I were you, I'd start runnin'."

"I will Pops." Snapped the punk, "As soon as I get your watch, your wallet and your ring."

"The watch and the wallet you can have" Gibbs said holding them out in front of him. But the ring?" He shook his head. "Over my dead body, son."

As the kid made a grab for the watch, so Gibbs made a grab for the gun. The ensuing struggle ended as the two of them fell into a display of bottles.

The gun went off.

The older man slid to the floor a look of surprise on his face. He looked down at the crimson stain spreading across his chest. "Well I'll be ..." his last words as he fell limply to the floor.

  


☆☆☆

  


He knew he was on the ground. It was hard and cold and damp. He never heard the bullet coming. There was a flash of brilliant light. A sudden thud against his body. His head hurt. As the light dimmed he became aware of a person in front of him. They were talking. He could see their mouth moving. Somewhere there was sound. "It's okay. You're safe now." A woman's voice. She sounded nice. Calm and soothing. And then a comforting darkness enveloped him once again.. 

He opened his eyes once more. He was sitting at the dinner table at home. He was sitting right next to her. She beamed at him. He had never been so happy to see her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately, tears of joy flowing freely down his face.

Eventually, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, someone took his other hand in theirs. He turned to see Shannon seated on the other side of him.

"Hello," she said. "Remember me?"

He stared from one woman to the other in confusion. He looked at them both, uncomfortably."Well, this is awkward," he said.

"D'ya think!" Complained Diane from behind him.


End file.
